Poetry

Wordle #248

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I climbed the hills to hide away from it all

To close off the noise that left the scars that still burn so strong.

It’s like the fire that never seems to burn out

And so the light flickers on and on.

The prophet had a vision that predicted the naked truth that my sins would need to be forgiven before I could come out of this all no longer unholy but pure again.

 

Written By: Deirdre Stokes
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Wordle #248