Swiftly Given Death of Emotion

Burning, robbing
Breaking trust
The adamantine heart dreams
Not quite dying – yet lost.

The antithesis of hate
This frostwork flame feeds
On secondhand songs – and sleeps,
Not yet dead – but dying.

Cold blow the winter words
That wrap my soul in snow.
Colder still, this lonely road.
Where fallen, dead – the traveler lies.

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