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APOCALYPSE POETRY : GONE

Gone. A cruel word that leaves a memory with thorns. Like a rose with the slow anticipation of its bloom, its scent, its magnificent awakening as a symbol of passion. Its tenderness and beauty in an instance that in an instant is love lost. The rose stands alone to wilt. And what is left forsaken, a stem of thorns. Gone. #apocalypse #ponders #poetry #photography #apocalypsepoetry

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