I RISE FOR DEATH?
Humility is a great big lie.
I genuflect for life, but why?
And then I rise for death, and
I only find myself getting back
down. But, why, again is that?
These things baffle, like pretty
wings on a butterfly, or the shading
elm, fallen from some lumberman's
lance. Is there a chance, even then,
of some hidden meanings breaking
through, finally, whenever, and
overdue too?
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