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| Topic: poem: trampling | |
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trampling
stampeded hooves pounding the gulch where is the rain with so much thunder near the coursing the current falling for danger flows don't dare don't every hand watches the rampaging brands a scar a stamp that firey dark beneath the sheltering sky that would not open with relief the dust rise choking till these currents mix of flesh and dust and a deadly rush that pulsing is cacophonous and dizzy as the the pulling waves crash against the faded days |
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one of my favorites by you-Merry Christmas-great hat.
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