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“Flickering” by Ashton Fludd

Staring through a reflection of regret and broken dreams , desire is a spark flickering. It used to be a raging fire ; a conduit of energy. Between these pages I sought refuge, A sanctuary where my essence roamed freely, like wild horses in the Pryor Mountains of Montana. Nowadays I’m tethered to a ball and chain , boxed in. No date for release. No reason for relief.