Old Reopened Sorrow

The wind blew with a savage eloquence,

Whispering words that cut deep,

Deeper than any blade before it.

Snow swirling, dancing on the wind…

Bitter cold…

Piercing and stinging with delicate precision,

Hitting sore places that had long ago healed.


The snow is bloody now.

Crimson pools of sadness

And Captured images of the past,

Cutting down upon thee,

Reliving wretched agony.


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