I drove miles lashed by winds to come to you.

Negotiated every turn of your secret pass

Drawn by the red lights of the city.

And now you walk away.


The sad fires of the mind burn stronger.

I laid the land to waste.

I hope this destruction will fuel a new life.

(c) Becky Deans 2013

About beckydeans

I've always been a writer one way or the other.
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