I fell victim to the warring winters
My soul foolishly plucked from my body
and perched atop the bough of
a ripened pear tree
The bold faced moon bares no pity for me,
but trails near at my back as if
pulled by a string
Once a humble spark in a world on fire,
should my fate fall to an unwelcoming earth,
nestled in a low bed
Or should the smoke curl and
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