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The turn of the festival solstice

It has always summoned my Sun

Pulled at the pit of the pallid womb

Worm weathered tombs and blackened rooms

It has always called

The sunken angels forth

In waves drowning the shore

Hellion tides assuring

No eclipse is never-ending

Regardless of hemisphere


Fallacies forged in fear

It has always summoned

The shadows to the light

In vespers whispered to the moon in the dead of night

To reunite


© 2022 A.L. Garcia. All Rights Reserved.


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