WE speak to the shadows of broken teeth
dealing cards in meditation never knowing respect.

What geometry of chance sometimes violent outcome
Wishing for gold.

Instead picking  up dirt like a dead King buried
with his weapons of War.

How life shapes our life How desperate moments
shackle our heart inside a broken bleeding heart.

Buried inside moving clouds how souls watch love ~~
upon these fields so old as a white horse grazes
in a meadow outside your kitchen window — gold.

How afraid i am that there may be a moment when I fail
you my friend. 

:: 04.07.2022 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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