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Death Has Not Eyes

Death has not eyes,
On life’s heavenly heartbeat,
But within clocked hours calls upon,
The silhouettes of those lost and gone,
 
Yet life,
Such a terribly blessed struggle,
Must be felt, smelled, and seen,
Lest madness lead us to call reality a dream,
 
Solid and stoic,
Life stands against the darkness,
As if before raging cliffs against a hurricane,
It breaks through all barriers and doorways,
Where all souls gather, with outstretched hands,
To claim,
The rain,
Of heavenly trumpets and cast away islands,
That leads to life and truth,
 
Lest madness lead us to call reality a dream,
Life must be felt, smelled, and seen...

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