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The Fire Within the Ashen Veil

Behold the world, encased in trembling fear, Where whispers choke beneath a gilded chain. The cries of truth fall mute, unheard, unclear, While tyrants feast upon the meek in vain. The streets are rivers, flowing red with plight, As hunger gnaws upon the soul's frail thread. The flames of greed consume the faintest light, And silence wreathes the dirge for dreams long dead. Yet, in the shadowed corners of despair, A spark ignites, defying night's cruel reign. The poet’s quill, a blade both sharp and fair, Cuts through the veil to free the world of pain. Rise, wordsmiths, rise—your gift divine bestowed, Let justice bloom where truth has long been stowed.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Date: 11/29/2024 5:08:00 PM
Loved the term "wordsmiths" Janis
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Lunarya Mornelithe
Date: 11/29/2024 5:34:00 PM
I feel like that is what all writers are. Wordsmith's, because we have to relay such feelings and extravagance through our written words.
Date: 11/29/2024 5:07:00 PM
Congratulations on your placement. Thanks so much for your thought-provoking sonnet. Loved the title. Blessings to you. Janis
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Lunarya Mornelithe
Date: 11/29/2024 5:33:00 PM
Thank you so much.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things