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The Longest Hour
BY:BRIAN B. KELLEY
Sitting on this place where the dead dwell
Memories pass as of yesterdays fortunate ways
Frolic in times say this to each day
Passing yule entrenches this soul searching destiny
Confessions of hurt felt internally so softly
Love's cry believes in every breaths try
A moments glance to the sky asking why
The autumns chill tells the sleepless night standing
Hearing the faded whispers of the eras unheard voice
Resonating atmosphere draws the ear of where bereavement clears
Held by the hands of comforts struggle
Heavy sighs, echoes the deeper cry in the casting radiant light
Stillness of the flickering flame that burnt so bright
Peace that commands this realms venture so rouge & rough
Tides of torn sensation strengthens the real hearts passion
Fortune by granted fate to youth is the answer of apparition
This was written for a dear person who had a grandfather pass. She loved him so and nothing but good was illumined in her eyes. This type of purity was priceless to witness while trying to listen to how she felt about this man. Here's to you and your undying love. B.K.
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