The backdraught of my
Life is blowing and
Breathing, billowing
With strife, this
Is the fiery hour where
All is cleansed and
Bared to
Heat and the extreme
Moment.  I am
Charred by my losses,
Brittled by pain, there are
Things and places I will
Never do or see again
And I miss, O I miss
What is gone.
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