Possession
I am yours
say the weeds
to the breeze
I am yours
say the leaves
to the trees
and yet the trees
let them go
to flutter and fall
to taste freedom
before snow
comes
to cover all
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Twisting the Leaf 
Mine, sweet boy
Is it freedom you seek? Or protection from the coming storm?
These are the questions I need to ask, the things I need to know
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