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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #1694790 |
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I dreamt once of a monk;
Who put paddle to water and wandered over oceans. My dream; My dream dreamt of women, Draped in towels Dripping their sweet sweat on his brow. My dream; My dream leaves me empty, I dream of celibacy. My dream; I dreamt of ancient monasteries Filled with mausoleums And gravestones to great men, A shattered core; Where monks fearfully Utter panic sing, Convincing, Pleading, Hoping, There is a pure thing.
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