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Afternoon gold rusts into red

the trembling builds in both of my hands

falling leaves, I land on my knees

as winter rushes on through the valley

Stone devours and stone remains,

holding captive immortal flame

as its shine resolves to hide,

in long darkness I am blind

Inhale,

the burning leaves

the barbs and thistle

the smoldering trees.

Exhale,

the day is lost

the moon hangs low

the valley frosts