On What We Dwell

Morning dew
upon my brow,
soft sinews bring
softness out.

All pride
self consuming,
as time is
sharply looming.

Is the world
blind to the kind?
Will the mind
remember in time?

Of the times
as warmth champions
winning fights
over spite’s ramblings.

Do we hold
close innocent time
or do we brood
over anger we find?

Do the bad
and painful sprees
linger longer
over souls and freeze?

Fastening down
the hurt is real
the pain of life
will hope conceal?

For conquering hearts
plead in the night fierce.
And the meadows dew
cleans as anger pierced.

Let the scribes
write of beauty
let us remember
loves true duty.

To heal the hurt
let us hold our hands
holding tightly
against fear’s demands.

Then we can
monument gladness.
Taking away
all of the sadness.

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