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The night runs in fear of the dreamer
The night runs in fear of the dreamer
The night runs in fear of the dreamer
As for he there is no night.
For even though there is darkness in abundance
He only need close his eyes to see there is light.
God deems all darkness be made light!
Such is why ebony skies are singularly bright
Brightly, dotted; with orbs so bright.
For the dreamers hope, is a candle wick?
That stretches from here to eternity…
All he but do is ignite its vaporous spirit.
And, be guided by its flickering fight…
For he that adjourns in his own shadow
Will have nowhere to go, when he spurns
What the daylight; can no longer anymore follow.
God made a scented garden and gave all men
Their seven senses to follow in this his trail.
So that even if one or more senses be lost
The spirit of the lamb would still be
Guided by gods external; light within.
poem
by
Mark Heathcote
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