So... i wrote this... the xm is getting to me again apparently.

So... i wrote this... the xm is getting to me again apparently.

Originally shared by Debora (AstralDreamer1)

A raven of snow,
gliding on wing and thermal silence.

On the ground, 13 for and 13 against,
locked in forsaken and forgotten places.

A shattering sound of 3,
rip one to shreds,
now one bound only to infinite cycle.

Strange attractor pulling inward pushing outward.

Little changes, as falling dominoes in a row.

Autumn leaves swirling in cold wind.

A white raven cries over the doomed one in crossed plains.

flint dille

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