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Closure

And there he stood under the desert sky
Until what could have been
Was scarce but a dying ember.
Even he, with flame-scarred wing,
will at last relearn to fly;
And his tarnished conviction,
Forsaken once with a sigh,
Need no longer be slave to “I remember.”

Posted in creative, introspection.

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By Nalin – May 29, 2010

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