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it’s the chilly breeze
that sweep through the empty room,
flowing over decimated souls
that makes him wake.

inside that hallowed soul,
where dust and cobwebs dwell,
a match sparks, a light burns,
winter slowly turns into spring.

the rattling of chains
and the heavy presence of cuffs
finally fallen away…
(it’s hard walking without them).

but, slowly, the smile rises,
like the sun on a happy day,
and his fingers write and write,
until his pains are drowned out.

the path he now has carved,
is smooth like the rocks on the beach,
and the people he walks with
carry an ever-glowing candle.

so he walks with them,
away from the cold empty cell
and the heavy cuffs and chains,
walking towards a golden future.


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