orgami's Diaryland Diary

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moon lit mercies

hall of mirrors
presumptious moon
thick with light
bright as a faery lantern
burning with the souls of dying stars
cutting through the ruby edge
of night
chasing her chariot of flames
will she ever eclipse
what she desires
her song heard in the sweet
night tides
she crys upon her seaweed
palaces
pearl tears
tender drops
..........

12:11 p.m. - 2005-06-18

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