prologue of sorts

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mercury hair caught in the winds of the wilds

twigs snatched and tangled

breath stolen, eyes wide

he is lost, never to be found

he is found, trying to be lost

silver spoons and broken bones

tears shining in broken moonlight

he is the yellow, the bright, the gone

he is the black, the dark, the for know;

unbeknownst to the rays of sun

they both strive to become a someone

eye socket city • joshlerWhere stories live. Discover now