Wild Heart

Wild Heart Scribe

Ah, I hear the rush of water,
soon I will feel its spray.
It’s rolling, rushing, rolling.
You hear it.
I know you do.
Soon your name won’t slip from my lips,
your sins won’t knock against my wild heart,
your grey ghost won’t circle about my head
and whisper lies into my ear while I sleep.
You will be someone
I knew too well
and not at all.
Not forgotten,
Not remembered.
Simply not… and

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