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Thursday, November 13th, 2008 | Author:

Duty beckons me once more,
I dare not turn away,
faces of the weak and poor,
who come to me this day.

Fearless men and women all,
who came before my fate,
mantled on their vesture wall,
upon these sands of late.

Sorrow me nay, but for those,
with dreams of liberty,
sweeping out across the floes
of dunes and sky and sea.

Violent tones upon my breath.
Pray I escape their ply!
Feeling not the sting of death,
as others ’round me die.

Silence weeping as you read
of things across that sea.
Keeping close my love instead
forever with you be.

Copyright © 2008 Keith Blackie

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Category: Poetry
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One Comment

  1. K,
    I like that one!
    Thanks!
    Mark

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