Verity

Last night, I had a vivid dream.

I was a place I’ve never been.

But honor lived there yet, intact,

And still within the reach of men,

 

And women, too, who were alike,

Though diff’rent looking; young and old,

In seeking truth and fairness, through

The stabbing pain of constant cold.

 

A place of right for those who had been wronged:

A me, not really sure that I

Belonged

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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