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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1692740
Just a reflection of life and all the passing years.
My yesterday's rush by me as the
songs of many rivers wherein is the
inspiration of my youth.
Therefore do I go but into wilderness pain
relevant thought, sinful iniquity.

I die but in the chagrined shores of my soul
which bear witness to rebirth awakening
spent on today's word but tomorrows promise.

Canst not the wine of redemption
be brought on the tears
of many men?
Can a man not live again through
the ageless promises of wanton wrath
which we serve yet even when we sleep.

Time gives us but a glimpse
of bewildered fear
born unto days divinity
a prayer given to ancients
but cast on the winds
wither soever they should go
may it be that those prayers
rescind to bounties of lords and legions.
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