Wind

I snatched a leaf from its branch mid-dance, then set it free to whirl,I whispered secrets through the pines, echoing in their needle veils, I stirred the lake's surface into…

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Undefeated

He kneels, yet will not bow his head – Night gathers round, the field is lost, But from his wounds and earth-stained skin Still blazes pride, undimmed by cost. His…

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A Bird Called Neoliberalism

There’s a strange old bird on scorched southern ground, called Neoliberalism – a native by name, forged in backrooms and woken by profit’s strange call, its feathers stitched from bargains…

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