Saturday, August 29, 2009


Life goes on from day to day,
Each one a sequel to the last,
The future molded from the clay,
Shaped by fingers of the past.
Until one dawn a threshold's crossed
When the link that joins the days
Seems to be forever lost.
A new world one senses in the haze.
The past a dreamlike never land,
A future ever less assured,
A base shifting like the desert sand,
A fearsome state not long endured.

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