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 Tamara Beryl Latham - The Poet


Sand that fills the hourglass,
scattered densely through the sky,
blown by some eternal wind
into some mere mortal's eye.

Harbinger of pain and doom,
when dark falls to quickly seep
into some mere mortal's wounds.
Now I lay me down to sleep.

Destiny, the child of fate,
fleeting through the midnight hour,
marking those within her gate
to engulf and then devour.

As she sings her unsung song,
destiny doth slowly creep.
Powerless, both weak and strong,
Pray the Lord my soul to keep.

Destiny will scourge the soul,
scorch the body 'til it bakes,
as mortals pray, both young and old,
If I die before I wake.

With a vengeance ne'er to wane,
Hail Mary, full of grace!
Sending all men whence they came.
Pray the Lord my soul to take.

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