Chance Taken by A. Klesath

on

I am a lioness

Pure gold slyness,

not dust: solid.

Not melting in mold.

Rising from fire;

Boiling, churning, rising, expanding

For me,

I climb ever higher,

Touching the night sky: bursting through.

No dust to disintegrate,

I integrate into myself

Fine, pure, solid.

Left alone, to my own,

Finding

Finding

Out of design

No filter, no hesitation.

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