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Living Death

what more could thou wisheth for, what more could thou see

when every mirage is a feeling, every feeling, deep, then deeper

each mirage I fall into, and every, to the one I see, only thee exists

for certainty, when in your eyes I live, for, if living is feeling, and

feeling is, for certain, thou must know I feel thee here, my mind

mad at the distance still between thou and I, still, thou feel so near

and if thou feel so near to be, creating realities within, feeling yet

could lie, as a dream, it would be, as a dream, I would find myself

as so soon I could give, to thee in imaginings vision, my being

collapsing before ever was a wish, is it remembrance or circumstance

is it at the shelf of fiction or, is it by the pew, shall it be, by and by

or shall it remain at distances ever retreating dance, I know not it

shall it be, shall be it, it shall, I know not what shall become of I if not

nor, what shall become of I if it doesn't, the soule does want to doubt

wherein the mind does recede, the body giveth, yet the spirit remains

secret, pain, secret, longing, secret, questioning, more secret, the fear

and if all was to be, for the beings whom so desireth, if thou wast here

so serious, all things would fall away, if all so quickly thou would believe

the soule remembereth, therein, living death, thou soule, thou self of

selves so seriously, so enveloping, so speechless are the words yet

falling away, as focusing does take the mind to focus, and thou knoweth

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