Creeping through a dense forest,
A sharp breeze howls distantly there.
The crackling branches ache thereof,
As it leaves its mark in its passing.
The coldest shrill, birthed from the darkest torment,
In an effort to scream a name.
Singular,
Shredded with emotion.
Unheard,
Unchallenged,
And as unusual as it appears,
Never on wanting ears.
The wait is long,
And dawn is here,
Will there be change,
Or is this the end?
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