Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Stoic

Bring on what little ye have
For I shall soundly compensate
That all ye troubles may begone
And thy Gracious Light shine on

Beyond this grave of human flesh
Have I risen to counter meaning
Until we meet, eye to eye forever
Where the you and the I disappear

From the most High, we come by
Permeate must, the thought of why
And so forth release the riddles ours
The dawn approaches, night unaware

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