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Remains

I stand in wrangle of the thought,
Chopping choices laid amidst all I've made.
Seeing in the prism'd prison of my ways,
What remains despite the loss.
Despite the toll of absent kin,
Which weekly, always, rings.
What remains besides the weight,
Besides it's bowing touch,
Stands uplifted with what's regained.
With what's reground, reformed and blissful.
And what remains, waits.
Untouched and untouchable,
Honed and cleansed by what,
This life makes, possible.
Written by Fiftysevenhours
Published | Edited 24th Nov 2022
Author's Note
An extract from today's journaling.. ran with it. As I did the title despite finding I've already got one called that.. hello unintended theme. Hope all are well.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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