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Petrified Forest

Mourning again,
Spent my whole life
Mourning,
The death of this girl,
The death of innocence.

Inside parts are still petrified.
There is a paralysed forest,
In my solar plexus.
In the midst of all this growth,
There is crystalised beauty,
Beauty flowing no more,
Beauty
Silent, tortured, dead.

Dead?

Mourning again,
It's ok to mourn,
This forest is still alive,
And I
Am still breathing.