Not what it seems

I called her Least.

She was…the Least of my worries.

The steels they grind and leave their mark.

Lisa Lynn came after.

Their screams fill the air.

Wheels of the mind can turn no more.

Babette.

Thru the things you have torn.

The power in hand of devastation.

Creates a type of revelation.

Where the wheels slow down.

I sit and warm by the fruits of my labor

on a cold winter’s day.

Dedicated to the woodcutting era 1992-1996

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