the whetted edge
holds no rust
the dark mantle
gathers no dust
in its folds
one by one
we lie upon the earth
leaching out
our mineral worth
like leaves in autumn
but silent
more like snow
that in touching melts
is gone
before you know
holds no rust
the dark mantle
gathers no dust
in its folds
one by one
we lie upon the earth
leaching out
our mineral worth
like leaves in autumn
but silent
more like snow
that in touching melts
is gone
before you know











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