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by Andrew
Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1757782
Sometimes people seem to turn to stone.
Among the temple's top
Are scattered flowing locks

A beauty to behold
Although the stone is cold

A goddess once of flesh
A statue now she rests

But will she dance at all?
Has she nothing to prove?

Until the day she falls
That statue will not move.








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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1757782-The-Temple