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A poem in blank verse about a journey from the past into the future. |
| Half-remembered promises Sink into the past. Moments in eternal silence Float by on the breeze. And every moment is part of a larger meaning. My friends forsake me like a lost shadow. We swore this would never happen For the tender grace of a day that is gone. But this may be the way it was meant to be. Shame and pride come in no order, So I become a keeper of the flame As a form of self-discipline. Attaining a new state of being, While memory whispers to itself As if this were the last hour of life. Reality Has nothing to say. It calls this beginning the end. The real end is the journey. |