You came to heel one last time, with fading grace,  stumbled a little, came to stand in your place by my side ‘til I crouched so you could lick my face. No one else saw me with such clear, crystalline gaze until time, a pirate, plundered your too short days and took you, the totem…

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My totem is a picture of the dead. Agony  can ascend at the behest of a crystalline  heel. Design stumbled in a surge like  artificial destiny. Paycheck to paycheck chance is a repeated dirty word.  Their revelation is a bankrupt spell  bone-cast and putrefying somewhere  on a laugh-track for a laugh.  Their revelation is a…

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In AGONY she STUMBLED into another horrendous VENTURE. Was it CHANCE, Was it DESTINY, Was it by devious DESIGN, Would it be, could it be a REVELATION? Must PREVAIL, Must make this STAND, Maybe this time a possibility to THRIVE, To ASCEND the obstacle that PLUNDERED all confidence And FULFILLED the expectation of a FOOL.…

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It was clear to me I was in agony as my screams shook the sky. His arrival was great but my timing was late and as a fool I stood wondering why. His behest was fast, the echoing torment was rasp and my destiny was now fulfilled. The revelation was swift but His grace a…

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Decision timing is my greatest challenge.It is an agony trying to get clear. I have stumbled so many times,impulsiveness my Achilles heel. Am I a fool, jumping too soon,or do I stand fast hoping for the grace of certainty? Will my decision surge forward beneath meor rasp roughly over the harmony of my life? Sometimes…

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My papa, Daedalus, the first architect,  vowed I’d thrive, inviting me to follow  at his heel. Intoxicated by the lullaby  of his rasp and hammer, echoing  through my slumber, I’d stand beside him  while he scanned each design, trying  to make certain his mechanisms  would last. He’d never filter discourse,  but spoke to me as…

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Here on this mythic island, sirens ascend to the cadence of beating waves. I tell you I am but a spectator, one who stumbled into this, but I recall the timing, trying to control the rasp and surge. I stand, gather grace about my shoulders. Porcine beasts snort and snuffle — echoing, echoing. Pale skin…

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Standing bold we scanned introspective this thrive to venture trying to affix totem and meaning Does the shallow fool prevail assured of grace fulfilled now at heel after the panic surge when our dream last plundered Is there chance walking in our shadows Does folly clear forward sight Do we daub our flaws making crystalline…

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for Emmitt If your destiny is all rasp, concrete, and broken glass If you never venture to the mountain top never hear your own cry echoing or stand alone  with all the grace and agony laid out before you—  well imagine yourself  scanned through the storyteller’s filter  your journey clear, the hero who never dies …

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Is it worth the agony,  Just to have a chance to ascend  Above the echoing throng? Listen to the clear behest of your destiny, And surge ahead, unafraid, fulfilled, Dancing to the cadence of grace. The truth is your totem, your filter,  Even though it is plundered by the fool Who stumbled across it, His…

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