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Rivers flow to the ocean,
As bees adore the flowers, and
All your pearls to pirates.
Crucified minorities, making their way.
Weapons of the majority, an audience for its needs.
Man stands on his choice and stumbles by it.
Plunged off the edge of the precipice, burning to know if I can swim.
Waves rock back and forth, the ocean whispers to me; sinking to the deepest of the deep.
To the wind, dance and song.
A desire as old as tale, to have and hold forever.
Throughout life and beyond death.
I used to fly high before
Anchored to bruises and scars
We just jump and skimp about.
The embers of your eyes, thaw my heart and summon my smile.
Here and now, our little death.
Treasure lies idle in these unthreaded paths.
A gift for the long suffering mind, further beyond the fold, the bend.
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