Too young in fact to be passing through this white gate
at least for my reason of presence
a labyrinth of stone
in a last attempt to capture their essence
I feel at ease here
home
where I once was afraid
the warm sand slips through my fingers
the very sand whereunder faith
I feel as if I am alone here
among more names than I can remember
and those who too come visit
their eyes of glass offer no recognition.
Jacob Adriani (c) 2011
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