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Faded Glory


I can't see you through the mist,
and when I close my eyes,
I hear not the still breeze of your voice,
just an emptiness and sometimes, disturbing thunder,
I find no peace in them.

I still feel remnants of yesterday's fire burning,
the last dying ember struggling to survive,
and maybe we should fan these flames of yearning,
but with our mutual disinterest...

I feel my soul peeping at you through my eyes with slight disinterest,
and hear my heart thinking, “how did we get here?”

Faded glory...





*****April 24, 2013*****



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Those who in malice
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Then turn to mock the distended bellies
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But today,
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It is,
Those who in silence watched
While the dirty deed was done,
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behalf, plead for mercy,
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So may I not be blamed
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The Executioner's job is urgent business
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Tonight,
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On things that were and were not,
On why
Light retracts different, in your eyes,
Like rainbows randomly ricocheting
Off my intangible thoughts,
Spellbinding...

On why,
Words sound different, on your lips,
How you laugh,
How the sounds take a path,
Across infinite dreams,
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Into all my iterations,
Into all...

Tonight,
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God is My Barber

The sickness that made the Vulture bald
would have killed the Crow.

It is because
the gods are petty
and would not be questioned
about who they show favor to,
That Crows live to,
Squawk hysterically
At Vultures' misfortune.

We have come to understand, that,
when a petty god is your barber,
Crows, who can't afford a razor,
with their benevolent destinies,
will punctuate our precious peace
with their shameless snickering.

but
the Vulture
neither
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nor
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with mockers and scoffers;
for the cure for baldness
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http://morganes-photographe.deviantart.com/
My Second poem about Vultures. I really need to stop this...😂😂😂