Can
any know that Light
That
is yet future
Who
shun Its past?
Far
ahead her voice
Where
none yet move:
For
they only run from her
Sound
– her sharp met
Words
– that offend
And
so, lost in the future
Ever
tied to the past
Is
a pelican in a desert
A
sea-wraith in a sandstorm
A
lone voice crying
In
a wasteland
Where
no voice is heard
*
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