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more voices

They run but they don’t move

They speak but do not talk 

They hear yet they are deaf

The truth which comes in

the light is within follow

the light

If you hear them calling me then you’ll know I am free  if they call your name instead than figure I am dead

Instead they heard the thunder

If only they had known

perhaps they would have

gone sooner

They held hands and waited for the sun to rise for

they had been told that it

would rise and light their

way out of the darkness

In the quiet still darkness of the night they would come almost

always voices in the silence of sleep.   Working their way into my unconsciousness etching forwards into my soul.    Planting seeds to be sowed at sunrise.  Flowers to unfold the secrets of time.

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Today I leave this for you as a place to share and allow yourself any memory that brings you joy.


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