"Dust thou art to dust returnest"


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Saturday, May 25, 2013

Beyond Mere


Waited on misfortune until brief moments of clarity 
A sentence spoke in a panic to provoke 
(This may not be the utmost of depth we've reached)   
Untitled, loose harp peg 
Vibration of the soul... cries in it's heritage 
Keeper of the flame... 
Banished to the last living memory. 

Hold back the tears, in stormy weather 
And from frailty there is grace and your parents wisdom 
Can still feel the warmth from somewhere within... 
We move shoreward by the lake and hike through the mountains... 
A prayer among the choir hymns in rejoiceful unison  
  Delicate thoughts... the train is leaving 
But only nostalgia knows where... 
Only poets are living 

For. the. soul. purpose. 
Of 
A heart to beat the same. 

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