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# fickle


twisted missives nestle in the thicket of your mind

fickle wicken thistles bristle

when the meat upon your gristle

thrills and thickens at the whistle

of a missile from a pistol

promising returns in kind


mists encroach upon the valleys

twist seditious through your alleys

drizzle dainty on the brims

of wicked wizards working rhymes

they're intoxicated, blind


yet nearsighted in the blizzard

pending in the next december

you will wander, weak and weary,

wending past the fading embers

from the chimneys of the hamlets

that reside outside your brine


you are not a faithful hind