Friday, October 12, 2007

Game

What a burnt night it is
A youthful moon
Like a lark plays unfazed.
Tawny grasslands dark and wild
Sprint with every wind.
A glinting claw
Holds its breath still
Afraid it will echo.
Stars linger in the pearly sky
Nerves taut wait fearfully
While a heart pounds on
This quiet, rasping tonight—
Determined to avenge.

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