begone, begone oh demon of chaos
like smoke in the wind, away your writers block
conjure for me my cherished muse
to sit on my shoulder and bleed my hand
On I walk a lonely pilgrim Through life's road dark and cold Been on this long journey a while Since I woke from an unknown slumber On a quest for what I do not know I search with compulsive imperative Through murky and misty quagmires I meet the good, bad and deadly Where it leads I can not say Through many turns I lost my north I once was a young man when I walked Now the dust of age cover my skin I saw vanity come my way Yesterday when I took a queer turn Today I saw the stain of sin On my cloak when I sat to rest Call me lost if you know the way Through this gruesome wilderness Point the lonely finger down the road Where four points collide to confuse me For on I must persevere to proceed As my bones despair in a single place The road keeps me from the pits of insanity The road is all that I live for The pilgrim road where my mortal existence finds along a convoluted and paradoxical definition If they ask where I am someday Tell them I am still on
The sun rises from the far ends of the east from tired slumber reaching out outstretched with golden blades of a zillion photons it blinds fell beasts of nocturnal habit chasing the darkness into the far corners of the cold west the mist rises, the dew falls from the blades of grass the lark is giddy as she sings of time and earth it is a new day for life, love, and hope -- Henry Akuete (the Undying Poet)
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