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The Beach - an excerpt

Vivere est militare, Lord, He, Almighty, ever gentle. Thou, please, speak with thee. Tell not the ineffable glory. Beg thee to sing, to color, To forbid, crestfallen can't be. Aid thee, I dither long, too far. Bury thy tenacious folk Under the meadows and the beach. Allow the waves wash this blood, And may the sand, with anger, Carry the dead and thy debt.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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