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Tuesday, May 15, 2018

SPIRITS

We sits solemn by the fire,
And, we weeps by the grave,
Never too sure on how to behave,
We count our blessings by the people we save,
Inspired by dance we spread the season of rave,

Our moves are redundant,
As we dance fare-thee-well,
Another season has ended,
Betwixt what was a heaven and a hell,
And, we will never see,
What must be must always be,
Is a time immemorial where our serpent self must dwell.

Dancing with the masters under the candles of the night,
Beneath the great bright orb of wonderment and fright,
The howling of the wolves and their chorus that resonates,
Beyond a million years of man's religions and his fates,
Sowing thunder in the mountains,
And  lightning in the skies,
Life vibrates, and resonates until in rocks its essence lies.

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