Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Dust clouds

We rise,
crash.
Stampeding
winds
we are.
Grinding
to
the ground. 
Hopes.
Prayers.
In
infinite
factions 
we stand.
Opposing
antonyms
made from
the
same mud.
And today,
we,
the creations,
brazenly
create
Gods
out of dust. 

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