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Its icy fingers piece my soul
Never still get a space.
Its echo vibrates around my chamber.
Peace never present, let alone
Present succour with solicitude.
A thief of soul.
A bull-dozer of destiny.
Soul yells for peace!
My ribs burn like a furnace.
My blanket is of no aid.
I am like a solitary bird
On the housetop.
My shriek bustles with tears.
I am raped of tirage of naked ideas.
Quite furious and hunted in poor spirits.
Quite earlier to sojourn to
Invincible an invisible world.
Until the only book, like a gasping
Messager prise my timidity from railment
I mean railment of death.
I need not wear it like a silver
I need not dine in its vineyard.