Epitaph On a Conscience

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Was it rage? Crying, still she beat the child

No tears on her watch, she can not comprehend fear

Grips their flesh to get them rid from here

Mysterious heel, how a loafer did to her

Melting ice embarrassed, glacier crushes life defiled

Preserving secrets, groping talent, finally memories splatter

Laughter is the youth of souls still living

Peels of bells revive, especially if our prayers are close

How is it tears still run, watch your self you lose

Somewhere a musty balcony organ lives, we tuned to sing, its pipes,

Joy of songs in a child’s world, they know the words to sing forgiving,

Play triumphant music all in time, foretelling future service stripes.


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