We rose as kudzu
Our of the irradiated soil
Thriving off the acid rains
We were never meant to survive
Sheared, undone, by the master's scythe
Hydra vines, each cut suffocating his unknowing blade
A toxic landscape, a voice
Forged of silence, tones of freedom
Echo in our hearts
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Saving silence
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