The Insistence

Underneath I sat my old confidant

The woods that are my own reminiscent

The shimmers of the past and serene present I see

the apocryphal of life in us

Echo through the dark

All but one leaf of life, remain on the branch

For that, a sliver of joy pounds in my heart

Got we deranged in the labyrinth of time

The succulent present became

Uncongenial foliage on the ground

Nothing are we but the dead silhouettes

shedding the leaves of life

piece by piece on the ground

Let me bury my head and crouch

Seek comforting slumber in the roots of the woods

And I quibble to recuperate on mere clamors

Let the spring come in an ardent manner

Let the branches sprout with leaves green tender

Let the phoenix parley for the terms of my life

Then shall I rise from this frigid dream

With the thrall on my life and

By the perseverance of divine.

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