The Majesty

By
The majesty

Is in the unseen

When a word is a word

And a dream is a dream

Grip the fact that we are all just a seam

In the need to live a life

We teeter on this balance beam

Of which to breathe or from it cease

Of pretty things and shiny rings

Of why we laugh and why we cry

Why we live, and why we try

If be there no black, how weird would be white

If not day, then how should we call it night

Alas we prowl the fetus of how,

Passed the dream of a diamond ring

The majesty

Is in the unseen





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