WISDOM

when we are weak

self doubt is a close companion

and the madness of this life

it never ends, it comes again, it hammers in

 

when the heart is empty

the tongue lacks pleasing phrases

and the beauty we posses

is desert rays, a thousand days, an ugly haze

 

when we shudder at tomorrow’s coming

for every morning the same fears call

our feet no longer want to dance

they hear no song, their steps drag on, the miles long

 

look into your past you broken hearted

listen for the voice of hope that calls

she will tell you tales already known by your heart

she bids recall, of times before, old melanchol

 

she cries,  “Walk in the graveyard of your heart.

Stroll in the shadows of death in your soul.

The air is thick with the stench of despair.

Your heart was low, the beat was slow, and full of woe.

 

You rose from your casket scarred but living.

The words upon the slab ring stark and bold.

HERE LAY ONE IN THE WINTER OF HIS HEART

BUT HE IS GONE,  FOR SPRING HAS COME, AND DEATH BRINGS WISDOM”

 

 

 

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