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Aug 2019
(Finally)

The eyes of the wolf are tired
the end of the mist grows near
The call of the crow grows faint
but the vision of my soul grows clear

To all my brothers, I raise my hand
from all the world and not just blood
To all the ones who have been there
And has pulled me from the dark cold mud

I finally made it to the crossroads
my last decision on my own
All my fears they feed the fire
But I have to do this all alone

My love for life does grow strong
but we do not get another chance
Refusing to believe this is my final song
not quite ready for the last dance
Written by
Elton Stallman the Lost poet  48/M
(48/M)   
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