Pulse
It starts as a caress;
Faintly carrying its song on the wind
A song that yields an infinite harvest
Of days and tales not yet come
Of two hearts conjoined as one
Of a nation yet rising
And a kingdom undone
The bouncing whisper exists
Throughout the notions of the abyss
So long as it remains in our hearts
I can say only this:
The pulse that is our lifeline which remains unsung
Is worth another day learning to sing
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