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The greatest wealth I will ever accumulate
is sheltered from physical eyes to see.
The dance of silken angels hypnotizes my soul,
so that my heart shall dare not flee.

To reserve a glimpse of this heavenly grandeur,
although my life does not warrant it’s pleasure.
This beautiful failure that I rightfully am,
the defaulter who should not claim this treasure.

Brilliantly imbecilic is my calling to fame,
my pride, and my defiance are my human gifts.
To be reaped at your harvest from glorious works,
to fall into your ardent hands as you gently sift.

That today is the tomorrow that I prayed would pass,
striving to become a figment of your heart’s desire.
That your successful disappointment, shall do so again,
but with the will to be consumed by grace when I expire.


One Comment

  1. Great poem! I’m looking forward to reading more of your work.

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