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Memories of the Megaliths (Poetry)

I am not a prize to be won.

I am an Empire to be built—

To be invested in,

protected,

cherished,

and maintained.

So when the millennia pass,

and our bodies have long since

turned to ash;

They will still gather ‘round

to recount our tale—

An ancient love

turned into a fable

of magic and mystery.

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Sometimes they call it compassion fatigue. I call it trying to morph myself— constantly. To be smaller and gentler, a more digestible thing, when my fire is raging and my voice yearns to sing. I’m exh

 
 
 

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