Ceaseless Grace

August 3, 2012
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The air hot and humid
Clouds looming
Anything remotely human

Air still with a storm
Of tropical sorts
Rain begins to fall
And more and more

Of me wishes to fall
Cascade through the air
An eminent ball
Where nobody cares

Just the endless sea
And the scent of a bloom
The ceaseless grace
Of an open tomb

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