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Ungrateful Seed

Whether we fail or succeed in our stoic minds, we as humans of
conscious conclusion will continue to bleed and feed self-delusions.
We have beautiful days and the moon filled nights, the magnificent
sun in radiant height measured in time. Man is a special specimen
made in the image of God with dominion and authority, yet the faces
of angels he'll rob for fame. And with crafty hands and skill so
refined...O how I wish I could turn back time to reclaim man's name.
But children of error if fire can no longer tame our tongues and the
birds of heaven fly upward with their songs the world will shake.
Somethings in hell stirred can't be spoken but I, as a man, wonder
can true honor be restored as well as broken? Or are we to wait
for angels from the skies to come down in teardrop cries with another
token. Fair I better with life than death because death itself will
die if there's nothing left. But the ungrateful seed doesn't see the
value thereof.

copyrights 2007
Robert Anthony James


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Ungrateful Seed