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DEAD RECKONING
DEAD RECKONING
That stain of guilt, it haunts me still
And it will live with me until
The end of days, when that arrives
As we account for all our lives
In that moment one pays the bill
A veil of black, no tuck or frill
When ink has dried upon the quill
And rust has blunted all the knives
That stain of guilt
When all sorrow has had its fill
And others may think what they will
Then, so very little survives
The balance is reduced to nil
That stain of guilt
Copyright ©
Howard Osborne
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