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Silentium

There is a beauty in the confusion of a pallid wall
A white blank mess drawn into you
With eyes like the sky liquefied  
In a pool of blue
Small whispers of a certain call
 
It’s Jerry and a Jew with a tangled ball
Or the shattered screen on the spring dew
The slow decay of the white lilies that have now died
All memories floating far between & less and few
Of us being measured and cut by the spectators saw
 
Without tangible description or flaw
I keep my eyes glued to the wall which holds you in wide set view
There’s a neat patch of bed for us to hide
And lie if defeated, above some crape myrtle’s stew
We’d glide over them with our backs like the audiences of Paul
 
If this wasn’t the way I’chose to die, I’d choose to live and choose to fall
Deeper into your loving arms and into you
Searching for the fullness you have shied
Off and away from me, but have slowly given clues
That reveal our world of Silentium and all.

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