Tittery walks
As thunderbolts lightens
the daylight
Sprinkling life on the
One hiterto dry
Sight a few pastures
In the land of unknown
Trace a few lives
Of some are human
Some inanimate
Still more humane
There is a barrier
Between the thing of beauty
And the eyes that quest it
It has always been
But never does the soul cease
To peep through it
Engulfed in cold breeze
Shuttered by everything cold
Reminded of all the warmth
That the now cold
had once caught hold
These vessels of commend
These caskets of Awe
Enough to hold that what is hidden?
A colourless face
Clenching remorse of greed
Not withstanding any replacement.
When things hasten to worse
Is it Worthy of any preach?
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