Of Paradise

There is a history, untold,
Of paradise and passions bred;
And so we spend our living days
Among the houses of the dead

Beneath the selfsame sky they knew,
We walk their paths, and feel their souls:
For all that was, is yet to be,
And written on our own hearts’ scrolls

There was a story, long ago,
Of paradise and brilliance shed,
And so, these hours in the sun,
Where blue desires led to red

As time goes to infinity,
So we must go as humankind;
For all that was, is yet to be,
Our past and future, intertwined

Of paradise, there’s much to learn —
Like knowledge, softly shaken, in its turn

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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