"Dust thou art to dust returnest"


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Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Saints Rose



From life to birth, from soul immortal 
The narrow clothesline of the before refuge. 
The window opening- to never loose such frail embrace;

The heart fills with luxury and with the constant need 
O f  p e a c e  f o r   m i n d . . . 

Extend the hand, condemned beings, palm lines 
The scars of symmetry, life will end. slowly decipher;
The promise of eyes to see more than what is shown 
Never learned from the past, you've already seen my shadow ghost
Walk out the door, first into the light- now over your shoulder.
Saints rose is all you can imagine from a dream now- not inside.
A world with no beginning yet first takes the heart of passion 
Into the profound darkness- leaving nothing but the colour red- on the rose 
She is holding- doesn't know this will be 
The ashes that will uncover- the true direction of the wind.  

From life to birth, from soul immortal 

Saints Rose. 

Extending hand.

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