sad songs and mad visions

some things are too sacred to write about
there is a risk that the magic
will leak out into the world

so i hoard the memories
like a jealous dragon sitting on a pile
of scents, tastes, and words

of sad songs that cut through
harsher than the bitter cold winds
of moments that slip through my claws

so i sit on this treasure
waiting for a glow, a sound, a twinkle
of a star in an endless night

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