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■ The oak
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When the Nightshade made its deadly call
And erased a life at 33 Amid the angry cries of a tormented soul A forget-me-not flowered blue scenes It seemed forgotten in tears of injustice As angry epithets spewed Awaiting the winter soltice caress Of numbing placeboes time tunes There the small blue flowers called Forget-me-not they chant He grows barely noticed around her souls parlor Whispering memories of thoughts implanted Forget-me-not memories saved of wisdom Sent amid a boundless spirit un contained He is here always here as his scent looms Soothing and caressing her spirtual pain A timeless specter reborn consumes Her helpless dispair flight Growing pure as the lotus blooms Flowering towards his perpetual light He forgot-me-not she smiles again Light blue blooms forever seen Along her unconcious heart refrain Cast deep from her eyes of green
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