Algid mornings

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    I decided to write another poem, expressing my grief upon the icy weather reaching over here.

    Algid mornings

    Who stood wide awake at dawn
    And beheld a silent fright,
    Thus walked dim, ambiguous ways
    To not vanish in the maze.

    Frigid, broken corridors
    Leading to the hands of steel.
    Turned aside the dusty shelves
    Around ancient sights, themselves.

    Blackening the lonely path
    Running then, to find the warm,
    And as others lay and daze,
    First of sunlight sparkles blaze.

    Finally, the seaplant shrine
    Treasuring the sacred means
    It stood cold until that day,
    But the winter made its way.

    Now the rod of fiery flames
    Grazed against a cardboard box
    And thrown with heavy iron will
    Flares will now the tunnel fill.

    And that is how little Jimmy set fire in the chimney.
     
    Wow. Deep and lots of big words. I like it.
     
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