In a western land, a sand swept cave
An old man scribes many a page
Till dawn he writes
outside the lines
posing questions to free his binds

It is never clear
words appear
not what he sees
just what he hears

As the pages fall
his eyes fixated, standing tall
paints the walls
an inner growing call
all bloodlines will fall!
greed, you see, took them all

Known he was
Why? just because
never a spent force
a balloon of thought
of what was when and where was, was

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Copyright © Paul Yakalis

Paul Yakalis is on facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/yakkaman
Photo Credit:
Disclaimer: The picture used herein is taken from the Internet


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