Icy thorns in kestrel snow,
I gather them for you; plunging
ire to your still desert, stave
it in illness, black lilies
incite the gallows you bring
into the ladies of dust
if the blood oceanid parts.
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Written for the dVerse prompt: Write a poem using the PLEIADES FORM (click HERE for MTB 16/10/14 post on this). Pick a ONE-WORD TITLE then write a SEVEN-LINE poem of SEVEN SYLLABLES whereby each line begins with the FIRST LETTER of your title.