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Friday, October 5, 2012

De-tour


Rugged as the path is, determined I am to walk on it.
Tried ‘nd tested, the methods are there. Pewit!
Ain’t I trying them ever? Nay! Naught! They wear;
So long ‘tis been unlike ‘tis you I revere!
As many times my doubt in you has appeared;
That many times has invigorated my faith in you.
There at times turned it out quite to be hopeless;
Those very times has twinkled the hope coming from...no cue!
Holloa! Oh flier, never hath I seen ripeness in such younger years;
Ah! May it be, it stay in thy soul until the stained cloud clears.
Route whtaya be, I stand for acceptance for reverence is there;
I’m holding on route flowing thy rhythm, ‘nd so ‘tis the feet to be cast on mere.
What I dread the most is the subtlest is the shred. May it not be; rugged my terrain, smooth thy cast;
Trot me, thou walk ‘nd unblinking my eyes as meadowlark for to watch you De-Tour at the last...

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