Paranormal
Pruning wind that trim the trees.
Behind you is a grave of unesscerary limps and leaves.
Once a mound that has been forgotten.
A sprite that lays to whilter and rotten.
Soon it will be taken into a digestive ground.
As it makes room for the winter season to come around.
Convicted of even not one crime.
Frozen in eternity to be forever mine.
Beauty remains as we keep on step pen.
A picture engraved in the life of heaven.
A baby seed that died an early death.
It seems everything is done by a calculated map.
In another day and time of course.
I shall rise again sayth the lord.
Copyright © Derrick Anderson | Year Posted 2009
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