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Ófnir

April 7, 2019 3 comments

You have a very odd way

Of lighting fires in my head

In the dead of night

Words come without bidding

Whispers and roars

Sometimes they slip through me

I cannot move my hands quick enough

So I carry paper, pens, phone

Even then I am sometimes not quick enough

It reminds me that at times

The poems and prayers I can never get down

Are for You and You alone

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