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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1400511
Rated: E · Fiction · Occult · #1400511
What is finite?
                       
                                          *Dreams of Faith*


      The night air is hot on the highway. He walks slowly.
      The trees creek and cicada sing... The day had burned
      his skin; a verse sung in days past echoed in his mind:

                      Sie zogen mit gesenktem Blick
                      In das Philisterland zuruck.
                      O jerum, jerum, jerum,
                      O quae mutatio rerum!

    The words fell bitterly.. His home was gone. His city gone.
    He looked out into the moonlit road. Where would He rest?
    He tried to pray.

                      Since I know nothing
                      I am dead.
                      The dead are lead by God.
                      God is not dead.

    He could feel the insanity grow within him. There must be a Way.
    Something to do. ..  There was a bubbling brook off the road.
    "I will bath." He thought... The brook was a few minutes into the
      woods..

      The water was ice cold.. He could barely force himself into the
      stream.. but, it numbed his burns... He laughed:  "I was the
      President of the United States."

      There was the snap of a twig. He stood and turned about..
      and took a step and then another. "I am Candice" a woman spoke.
      She was beside a tree.

      "The world is a mystery." he thought. They held each other and
      life begain anew.


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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1400511