Samuel Carlson

somewhere, sometime
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for taylia

vague anonymity shrouds their edges,
blue jötnar obscured by billowing hellsmog,

distant fury, defiantly roaring in their slumber,
awoken now by a trader's steps,

they stand stoic, indifferent to my passing,
their crevices peer into my depths,

i am nothing

incomparable greatness layed out before me,
a grain of salt beneath the agelong sky,

reduced to my core, consumed by reverence,
i look inwards, seeing only,

the wisp of my essence,
the center of my vincible being,

finding you.
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