The distance calls in reverie,
seducing dreams to future shores,
yet echoes tombs of loneliness
till death become its oars.

No passage can be seen,
no step is placed through surf and sand,
no payment pulled from empty pockets
will cast a rope beyond this land.

But aye! the dream continues.
Aye! the heart pulls hopes along.
Aye! the future’s glorious,
where soon I will belong.

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Filed under Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

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