Sunday, October 22, 2017

Vers Gnostique

What misdirects us is our need to know,
The only thing concealed by glaring sun,
Blinding paths illumined like blue runways,

For in the "not for us to know"
Lies the thing the whole grieves over,
What was lost on our way to here

And is not recoverable
Unless it was never real at all;
That's the way most grieving is.

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