The Spirit's Flame

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Night or Day?
Black or White?
What’s the point when it all turns grey?

The sun rises high over the mountains,
The moon shimmers in low 'cross the glass like lake.
It all repeats in an endless cycle,
Only your actions to bare the way.

The seasons change-
Bright flowers to Searing heat, to Golden leaves to delicate snow flakes.
The only constant is the hearts choice.
The only constant is the spirit's flame.





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