"Dust thou art to dust returnest"


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Friday, April 26, 2013

Dust Thou Art (II) Temple

Never to be more alive 
Than the art has made me...
Subjective to a pattern 
Formed in brief moments of charm. 

Make no alterations... 
No compromise  
The obsession will slowly fade from here on. 

I am sad... deprived and lonely  
And sadness will avert from the eyes
Staring perfectly through the whites of her lilies...
Carried by the current and the need for something more.

Short breathes will divide 
Into a temple of worship 
I can't reach...    
Can never fall before four, not ever, just once...  
Drown the candle... finish your thought
The mind's a cryptic altar to a prayer we don't trust. 

Pour your liquor, deprive a wish;
Sentimental will always be there, 

So unforgiving. 

In moonlight waning crescent...

Always half, yet never whole.  

Never to be more alive 
Than the art has made me...
Subjective to a pattern 
Formed in brief moments of charm. 



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