A Lost Art
How rare, how innate this journey
manifests to be, the foreshadowing
of a loners blessing.
That intuitive thought to travel
with when my third eye seems blemished.
A mannequin of myself hidden in
longevity, that has yet to spoil.
I sometimes allow thoughts to slip
away from this safe haven,
thereby welcoming consequences,
consequences only an amateur
would allow.
In this game of similar links,
I’m quickly reminded of a presence
bestowed upon me.
Those allies illustrated for battle.
Only a true soldier could retrace these
portraits, heavy pages of uncertainty that we failed
to erase. I’m grateful however, of the genuine flame it
ignited.
We defeated the irrelevant
hazing, and found the blueprint for
camaraderie.
A groundwork for future war scars discovered
in our spirit. Overtime we prayed, and
received that undaunted
scent.
Still, perhaps in this physical scene,
There lies too much symmetry for this
parallel vision.
Some fade away as a result,
anticipating a reunion in higher
dimensions.
But as this masterpiece continues to illuminate,
I praise God for this muse called friendship.
Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2017
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