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The Beguiled

By: Mistress of Word Play

Page 1, To be lost and not know it is a blessing, to be lost and know it is a nightmare.


Can you tell me where this road goes?
My heart aches and a weariness grows.
I seek that lost sanctuary of security.
I have searched long where can it be?
A spot where I can sleep.
The ways of man have made me weary
for all about me are thoughts quite dreary.
Has that nature become my affliction?
Have I become trapped in this addiction?
I bow my clouded mind and weep.
What hope is there when there is none
but that dread of the rising of each sun?
Eternal torment waged against my soul
I travel in a trance to my distant goal
all the while consumed in death.
Atop misfortune’s broken jagged stone
I walk this perilous trail forlorn and alone.
I pay penance for deeds once rendered
the times I fought and then surrendered
releasing freely that dying breath.
A soul tainted by all the world’s treasure
fathomed so deep I dare not measure.
Ignoring erstwhile signs along my way
frolicking wildly like a child at play.
No mercy found, no sharing.
Yet in that darkest evening listening
below a mantle of starlight glistening
I heard a voice so gentle calling to me
and I will be grateful throughout eternity
for that kind soul’s caring.

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