A flame tree of truth shall rise from the ice


screened out snow

Locked inside a tired and mired icy mind

Contemplating the webbed intricacies of lies

Pronouncements of grandeur do not create truths

Even with a hungry devouring cadre of sweet tooth



The coiled screen will no longer filter

Come as you are to face the raging blister

Today is the day to provide no more shelter

The harsh realities will openly congregate at the bazaar


Locked inside, while the snow wails freely

Longing to be a wild royal flame tree

The fire brush’s time will soon come

And the candor on our lips will vibrantly  hum

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