PROSE POEM certainty
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time running out?
Too soon this life expires in death's tempest's certain storm.Yet to go away can be to arrive.Too often to forget life's reality is a perspective out of true.This tragedy of living ,this tragedy of being and yet Faith's continuity lives within ,the vernacular dies away ,orphaned and alone and truth seeps into our heart.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2020
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