Sep 1, 1997

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September 1997

Deep into the meadow it roams,
With no knowledge of what it will find.
Carried out into the darkness
So it sees only with its heart,
It cries for help with an unheard voice.
Believing in the unknown, it weeps
For society’s betrayal.
Naive within its own mind, it misconsceives
Fail for fortune, and heart for soul.
Among the dewy earth it lays, becoming
Peaceful in its bed of lies.
It knows not what it does, or what it is,
Where its going or where its been.
The selfish contained within its own
Reality keeps it from
The Truth,
While the birds keep getting louder.
Content, now, it is nest, surrounded by All,
It does not see, it sleeps…
It dreams… And it is
The End.

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