The Edge Between
The sea whispers to the meadow,
A call unanswered, yet the flock remains.
White lambs, lost in innocence,
Red-streaked where hands have been.
The black ewe stands at the cliff’s edge—
A quiet reckoning, the fall beneath.
Thorns and roses twist together,
Unwanted beauty, unbroken earth.
They stray and still, they stay as one,
Wandering the boundary of what’s known,
And I, standing still, wonder:
Can I be both lost and found?
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