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Mark Lecuona Feb 2015
The light on his shoulder witnessed his birth
   and the deathly funeral inside
A bloodless procession of pain and joy,
   where faith refused to hide
Faded beings, emotion and possibility,
   from days when truth once lied
Long silent until love finally passed
   and those who watched finally cried

The light on his shoulder scattered,
   pieces of lonely sky
Whether blue, grey or red,
  misting rain or dry
Flowers cover the stubborn stone,
   not knowing why
Adorning what he once chose to love,
   another forever goodbye

The light on his shoulder knew his burden,
   for human will is weak
Abstinence the only path to holiness,
   desire, the flesh to seek
Within hopeful eyes the choice blurred,
   powerful or meek
Once soft perfection but now scarred,
   her mark left on his cheek

The light on his shoulder was well pleased,
   as written in scripture
Though he never believed in the providence of  fate,
   or the words of a preacher
He left his chance at love at the altar of decision
   to return one day to seek her
But that day was not today as only the light knew,
   it was time to re-enter the water

— The End —