works burned to cinders poplar trees leaking resin bulging eyes lashed punishment as a lesson but his chain links snapped fresh from slavery hefty debts to the procession the gally of people alike that lent him a hand to his ascension a journey his own luck and his mind fortified his constitution they carried him to his fate that was to be absolution
The November 25, 1963 day of the cold sun, the noble horses, white horses-drawn caisson, the dignity of their somber gait, silver shoes resounded on the pavement, the skittish night-black riderless horse- Black Jack, led down the avenue of the people, his symbolic rider, no longer bound to the earthly life, it's sorrows.
The noble horses accompanied him on his journey to the ages, the mystique, the dreams, deathless, where the ground is hallowed- Arlington.
it has started the slow drift moving across land ******* at the seas whispering across the earth charming music from the stones drawing power from the stars moving minds directing hearts air hums light crackles building intensity the gathered energy pennants flutter the quiet call to arms forming procession
There was a funeral procession today Did you see it? I didn't get too I bet it was beautiful Lot's of black? I've always liked black How many cars were in it? 10? 20? 30?! I would have given anything to see it I wish i wasn't cooped up in this box I miss everything