Grains (On Stony Ground)

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Out here in the concrete jungle, without a friend,

Walking in a crowd of strangers all alone, unloved.

The path is unfamiliar, nothing is known of its bends,

Yet our feet are home upon it, like a hand in a glove.

 

We were made for more, for a much better world,

There’s a higher purpose to our earthly existence.

Human, man, it doesn’t matter what we are called,

We are beyond labels and names without consistence.

 

The spirits more than the flesh, the souls even more,

The hearts within us all, alive, beating to set us apart.

The Maker’s breath moves, a fluid fire lit in our core,

Masterpieces, creations of Heaven’s science and art.

 

Every spark lost, every piece of Paradise given away,

The candles blown out, the artificial changes, stains.

The blending in, the bandwagon life lived for a day,

Celestial beings strewn upon the stony ground, grains.

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