Candle licks at Air,
in a room full;
fat and lazy,
not his Brother,
CampFire,
bound to one spot,
but rooted still
and warming Earth
a warm spot
on Mother's breast,
as another wayward child
stops to rest for the Night...
Other Flames
light Sky;
Cosmic Warriors,
(how long ago stilled
was their Battle Cry?)
for the Eyes of Heaven
never close but the
Spirits close their Eyes
and nod their heads,
having seen and knowing
what adapted and survived,
what stood stubborn
and is no more...
It is easy
to Die
for what you believe;
harder still
to live for it...
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