Wednesday, December 24, 2008


The moments end at last, everyone dies alone.
But when the soul should pass, will time still have a home?
We wonder and we ask, we struggle as we hone.
With recalled joy surpass, sweet memories we comb.
Gazing into the past, new threads of light are sewn.
Despite betrayal alas, we will have surely grown.
Across a great crevasse, above the river's foam.
The sun's radiance basks, the darkness, the unknown.

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