The world has torn meapart left in the dark.What is left of me foryou to try and mark. I left the day long agoI dwell in night in spiteof all I have known myway ears hard do fight. Left the pasture longago I am a simple man.Yet my deep spirit itfollows not commands. Pride or…
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Sound Of Silent Sounds
In the winds of winterthe biting air remindsthat warm is the sun yetthe cold finds its time. I hear the crisp paper;fluid marks the surfaceand sends us a journey,an endeavor a purpose. I shall not speak for yousome things in a head.For without my secretsall my mystery is dead. I’ll retreat though upinto a canvas…