Burning
souls and tongues leave no ashes
A tortured
mind is mercilessly forgotten
Human pain
and human fate so entwined
Caged in a tired
flesh so eager to be rotten.
But the
path of redeemed blood is peaceful
I had a
father, I have sons and I know
The Lord is
my shepherd; I shall not want.
There is
still time to teach and to sow
A
passionate logic, a mind that perseveres
Of these
notes was made a gentle citadel,
A lofty
conclusion of so many years.
Many will
wonder about the last chord,
But when
aiming for worldly perfection
How much
God the heart can afford?
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