Copyright@RobMason2012
Scratching words of inspiration
My mentations in fading ink
A messenger
Keeping nothing for myself
Inscribing hope
When despair seems ubiquitous
Not all has been squandered
The hour is late
But it is not lost
Cloaked in constant bedlam
What remains curative
Can once again be binding
It is not written on the wall
But etched in our hearts
Mere words can never be amending
Only a leap of faith
Simultaneous
In conduct becoming
No more the spectator
No more a time for words
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