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Near But Far

Some things are at our fingertips, but we only need to persist to reach them because they will seem far away.
So close to that place,
That place of ones phase,
The phase of a life,
A life without an archive.

Those tears are seen,
Seen without the scene,
The scene of that existence,
That existence that comes with persistence.

The unbroken shattered shell,
The unclouded weeping sky;
The sculptured winging bird may not tell,
But the hyena might be forced to cry.

Pointless and formless;
Its fearless,
Driven self,
Turn Elf.
By
Published: 6/5/2013
Reflections of the Mind...
Bouquets and Brickbats
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