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Literature Text
New day
Old soul...
I feel to fade
in grassy knoll -
far from strife
and autumn's pain
where weary hearts
turn home again...
Old soul...
I feel to fade
in grassy knoll -
far from strife
and autumn's pain
where weary hearts
turn home again...
Literature
we who are weary
we who were afraid of those dim evenings,
homesick for the soft rains which were
never ours,
are uncertain again of
the waning stroke of the moon.
we who embrace the wicked
leave the seasons to maneuver themselves
and wind into each other,
sure of their graceful oblivion.
we who are weary descend,
following our fingers as they are rising,
rising
following
escaping
the thick air before it can kill,
we who were once war personified,
worn down,
worn
warn them of our great coming.
and we shall not run,
but walk.
Literature
Heartfelt
At birth
my heart
was
undelivered,
never whole
nothing but
separated
parts.
I might
have hoped
that you
could have
fused disparity,
between us
There might
have been
the chance
of creating
at last a
singularity
We might
share.
Literature
Thinking Of You
As the rays of the moon shine upon me,
I kneel at the window to pray.
Hoping upon a simple star's ray
that my love may yet return to me.
She was special in her own way,
neither angel nor spirit could ever replace.
Perhaps that is why in my dreams I chase,
this loving memory of her.
I know she will be back someday
that's why I keep the dust away.
As I arrange our pictures where my heart will stay;
In the home that once contained her smile.
'Here's to you darlin', my last drink for the day.'
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