Free

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by Sheila Pierson

Closing in, reaching across the room, a desperate tendril of the past winds its way, fortune without, hope withdrawn, unable to find its grasp;

Weakened by its inability to feed on the soul who released it, one final struggle, one final attempt to drop its seed into fearful thought is made;

A once lush green vine of unknown perdition is given over to the dust, returned from whence it came; the strength of a free soul will reign

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