The flesh strays so far from you.
like the phantom in a body anew.
100 stories infront, you were buried with me.
Rot well did You?
No because your essence was ever reflecting.
My mind was rolling on the little ancestry protecting.
Arden adent lank rank and rigid!
Cold hard and front faced frigid!
How´d you be any role
when the mole
plans access to you
after death throes?
After underground wooden boxes.
Often after myths of sly wolves and hedge foxes!
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