Nordlige skogene i blod

After this rain, flood fore summer
Slam my gavel down
With purpose, not isms
Delectations upon the strife wiped away
Pure morning over no mans land
Shipping the Acquiescence away
Unearthly
In this formless obscurity
This pointless protestation of non suffering
Disconnected, weak and numb
A phantom pain of this long lost mind.

Vegard M. Vindheim 2013

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