Monday, April 11, 2011

What, That TIme Cannot Define

It is a world.
Home to hate.
Home to lowly, home to great.
It is a world,
We dig the ground
to find the love.
What have we found?
Oh, ages come and ages go--
Lacking? Yes.
Empty? No.

What we lack is something that we never would have missed--
What, that time cannot define, has made this emptiness.

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