We dreamed of the castle on the hill,
Perspective being what it is:
The roof that gathered our aspire,
Tangled in the tares and vines
That marked our path.
Wanting what is not that much
Needs no explanation:
It is more the dream of going
Than the destination --
The sky was a blue infinity,
The trees were a guard of honor,
And all of that magnificence
Is still a worthy thing for hope's
Meager existence
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Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by 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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