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Song for humanity.
We are virgin flowers in the spring.
We are lovers in afterglow (don`t you know.)
We are nights without end.
Sleeping round the bend of the harsh winter.
We are soul-diers of the world.
See our colours unfurl,
Slow or last.
Disintegrate or pass.
We are livers of the love dream,
Of a half-forgotten, sunken scheme.
We are fliers without air,
Scarred souls beyond repair.
We are virgin flowers in the spring.
Lovers of a (ceaseless) quest.
For unordained pastures of joy.
We are breakers on the pools.
Benders of the rules.
Fakirs on cushioned stools.
Foolish, fodder failures
For the unawakened cause.
poem
by
Peter Vealey
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