Spring

Standard

I find myself again in the grayness of this city.

Humid billows of ashen smoke fill my lungs,

as tainted mist clings to my skin.

I center myself behind the weight of the world,

waiting for liberation.

The pain gradually rises up,

through the hole in my heart, into the atmosphere.

Mixing with acid rain, it dissipates,

leaving me in sultry exhaustion.

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