Snow

Pure water from the heavens condenses,
Freezes,
Falls.
A snowflake is born!
The atmosphere molds its body,
Yet, toxically tarnishes perfection.
Continually drawn by forces rushing downward,
As if time is of the essence,
To deliver its message.
Alone
It falls to complete the circle.
Without friends,
Without faith,
Without love,
It melts,
Dies.

by Lance Larsen

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