ruin

philosophy | poems

a chink in the china, curtain drawn
the wallow of swallow sound forlorn
in truth there is proof you have been gone too long
the mood in the maudlin mud the nod of sleep,
ever do you weep some distant quell,
a house is not a home to hear him yell,
yellow citrine stone sit stoic and alone- amethyst regard rich purple
lifetime to atone-mercury send memory passage through rough water to
land-forgive live and let live, humbled by pope priest holy man,
laureate scribe make words come alive from vital archives, amaze the
innocent and the wise to embark and then to analyze
the difference impart from the
ruin of the heart
to come to know
the next plateau.

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