those from which we draw water
like the land of the cemetery to our ideals.
are bright spots of salt tears.
dig face to each path is always the same
from the deep wounds of our fear
awareness shewn sterility.
There was a time in which I loved.
There is a time in which to continue the journey begun is the priority.
I stranded at the heart of the baggage that weighed me down
and with difficulty I face if they call me,
been so great is the fury give me a new name.
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