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Poetry by Tom Stanley
 


 

 
The Fires

 

Terror floods from me as I stare into those cold dead eyes;
The soulless orbs of the dire abyss awaiting me.
The fires that burn me; unconsuming and chaotic,
The funeral pyre built up of my misdeeds is a monolithic reminder;
A reminder of the life I had, and the life I gave away.

© Tom Stanley

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