22 February 2009


no need to warn away from the cold rocks

those who believe no purpose can be pure

except our kind those chosen to endure

unlovely meetings of the darker flocks

facing the one who out of anger mocks

informing each that they cannot be sure

but must discover for themselves a cure

with force of tiger and cunning of fox

not in the night but when the sun is low

do the flies gather to consume your heart

just when you need it now you may require

some sort of impulse as a means to show

all who may follow that the form of art

is what survives even the hottest fire

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