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Poetry & Art

Seven Mile Compass

Floating there in a sea of dread
Somehow still warm
In the night time air
Realizing how vast the darkness is
I’ve whistled for hours and it seems
Not even a Pigeon can hear me
I’m becoming weak
And I’ve come to grips
Knowing death is necessary
Though I’d rather my lungs
Die in a blaze
Than drown in misery
I feel as though my life is in irons
Captured some place the sky
Meets the ever moving ocean
Clutching my compass
As I fell under
The bridge I’ve built
Seven miles of north and south
Yet somehow you found me
Floating in the Dawn

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by Ryliegh Vieira

Lover of coffee and blank pages.
Musician and photographer.
Sometimes a writer.

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