"Dust thou art to dust returnest"


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Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Unsung.

There's no faces in the crowd of people, parade 
The only eyes i see are embedded in my mind 
Great wide oceans of tears...
Forgiveness's, exasperation absolves in each of us...
 Each minor detail, no flaw goes unnoticed  
The flight of the rain... the river's current 
No burden is here to each hammering cross... 
The bleeding nail of our palms,
Paint to the brush... 
A line in a poem, sings the song unsung. 

We belong to the wilderness...
Not to this work-a-day world. 

There's no faces in the crowd of people, parade 

The only vision now is from darkness here without you. 

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