Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society. - Mark Twain

Conversion

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My feet were bare, my heart on edge Clinging to the precarious ledge, A leap of faith, a fool's demise Blasphemy on the mind so wise, Fulfilling prayer turn into pledge One soul emerging, another dies. Into darkness my shell was cast Night-time terrors I shall outlast, Lamenting cries, the fearsome moans The hungry eyes locked on my bones, But all these sins I must run past To enter deep the Grove of Crones. Live through the night and turn the page And wake the day a newborn sage, Aged heads freely a new sight gave One must in mind and heart be brave, Break free from darkness' mental cage And live 'fore entering the grave.



© menoh
2018-09-11

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