Sunday, August 31, 2008
Of Futility
The day shifts to nightfall and I am weary. The hours of my survival wane as the sun bids adieu. It is futile and somewhat remorseful this melancholy mood. For it could have been lost in clamor or laughter or tears or heartache. Alas it was hidden in misconception. An unlikely source of deception...
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My Citadel
I. Safe Harbor My refuge is a safe harbor. I have a high tower; glistening. A beacon that lights the world. My refuge, my tower will not be distressed. My God, my High Tower, will stand eternally! II. Safe Haven My refuge is a safe haven. A place where the humbled are welcomed. My shield, my...
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