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Bodily cold.
But the pulse still races..
And confused, confined,
The mind conjures dreams,
Of poetry or spirituality..
On the banks of some river,
Somewhere,
Unseen yet..
Alien or native.
Perhaps home,
Finally,
For some.
For some
The final home..
Gentle cradling,
By the sacred river,
In stillness,
Near aged steps
Unaffected by degeneration.
Barefoot,
The priest murmurs
The last rites,
Ritual offerings…
And waste and struggle,
Faith or doubt,
Meet one final end.
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