Monday, October 31, 2016

Halloween Valentine

Every seven years
We build a new body
Every three hundred
We build a new soul
Every thousand years
Our spirit graduates
Having mastered time
In and out of space
Having been crushed by it
Made to feel its tool and fool
But having stuck by the holy ones
And their words to the wise
Death cannot come
Until the poem is done
The poem is never done

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