Monday, May 30, 2016

The Pariah In Exile, By John T.

The sensation, familiar and tingling,
Comes from that ancient cold chains.
As he stumbles through the vast and foggy landscape,
Crystals streaking down from the moons of his.

The pariah is now who he is,
At least to that community:
Where he was born and bred,
a place once full of promises, now of uncertainty.

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