The Pilgrim's Demise
Light a candle for me at the end of the line Bring your light and show me mine— your consequence your guiding principle the thing that makes you everything to me These signs I see I say again are the oft-promised shadows of the soul within, of the gleaming sword and the skull of wine—all these items are like the divine I shall be like the stone, worn and ragged in need of cleaning and reshaping A forgotten lump once hewn, set down to bear the weight of ten thousand feet over me Here it ends, the evocative glee These words falls short I cannot get in, I cannot hurt I move, I walk away Feet before feet, the memory of this will tarnish the past and bleed into the future— a long-standing echo a demise
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