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Poetry By: seven

Tags: Poetry

Flames, heat, and a volcano

Submitted:Dec 11, 2006    Reads: 83    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

At least, you are all that is left.

Your scent is in the air.

I know not which my bed is,

I am trying everywhere.

You stirrest my heart in a way,

I've never felt before,

And, that no other can.

You fan the flames of my soul,

And raise my heat to that, of a volcano.

/ F /


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