Sunday, June 20, 2010

Blunting the Blade

My wishes abound
But my plate is empty still.
There's peace to be found
Over the hill.

My strings are all strained
With worldly tunes.
The drapes are all stained
With mystic runes.

If you don't
Find me midst yourself,
If you care enough to see,
You'll find me gazing,
Searching the sky,
Blunting the blade.

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