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In these words as writ I hope to find
in all life's torments
a peace of mind
as a gem in sands
hidden: dry
my cry
in deserts of seething blood
in passions lain

Yet a raging fire has followed me
consumes my days to nights
breaks with crushing weights
the you
that is no more

Night falls like mausoleum doors

Infinity Limited Magazine Winter 1993
©1982 I.B. Nelson