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Atrium

  • Writer: Andrew D. Clark
    Andrew D. Clark
  • Nov 8, 2020
  • 1 min read

Updated: Oct 14, 2021





Pupils widen in waning opal darkness,

The temple now in view.


Hold in eyes of open minds;

Of wise and noble few.











My mind is harsh,

Stripping all the wood from broken trees.


Through solitude I know,

That I am not alone.











My love is half hidden,

But clear and open is my voice.


The way lies ahead,

Shrouded in the leaves.









Now that there is silence,

I can listen.





 
 
 

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