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The Journey
Violent dreams in the tempest gate
Two visions meet like a hurricane
Cain and Abel, paradise lost
A double-minded man tossed
Lust is a bloody sword unsheathed
Divided nature hidden beneath
Defiled with pride, wrapped in chains
The battle rages on every page
Pompous temples sold for gold
The wilderness is lonely and cold
Dressed in poise shallow and hollow
Conscience is a compass we follow
Meaning shines like a newborn friend
Death appears in dark lament
Funerals and tears shatter illusions
Pain wakes our sleeping delusions
Time will never stop its marching hand
Hope cannot survive on surface sand
No roots grow in the glitter and gold
Beauty fades and everything exposed
No where to run nothing too lose
The soul is truly a place of refuge
Oblivion cannot stop the lion of light
I stare at the wondrous stars tonight
Caravans of searchers seeking too trust
All that I am returns back to the dust
Into the desert where sinners must go
There in the wise stars I see my soul
The journey home is truly within
poem
by
Joseph Narusiewicz
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