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Grieve Not
Grieve not for me that I, have stepped outside the pale.
Man's death is not a void, a thick congeal of night.
The ground whereon I stand, is just beyond the veil;
A firmament of soul, illumined by the Light.
Grieve not for me that, I transcend this human dream,
For I ascend above, the tumult, din and blare.
Come visit my gravesite, as often as you deem,
You'll visit my remains, but I will be elsewhere.
Death is disunion, a spiritual flight, of soul from sense.
(An Alexandrine)
poem
by
Lynn W. Petty
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