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Thursday, September 20, 2012


The lonely walk of the sage
Begins with a single word,
An endless quest to scribe
Spoken drops that fall unheard.

Planting wisdom’s sacred seed
Harvesting for all,
Reaping what my hands have sewn
Scripting in my ethereal hall.

Hope’s polished stone I cast
Into tomorrow’s pool
Concentric rings of acumen
My gift unto the fool.

Love all that is unknown
Yet seldom kind returning,
Life’s most precious sign remains
A single candle burning.

No mortal thoughts of self
Rest within my soul
Forgotten knowledge found
My forbidden tome!

All I breathe to live and learn
Not of corporeal hue,
Existing boldly betwixt
The celestial chosen few.

My sojourn upon this rock
A mere speck of sand,
Lost among the mighty dunes
Upon the temporal hand.

©Feb. 19, 2011 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic

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