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Buried Beneath (Head-Lines May 1st, 2011)

(Eternal Spirit by 

Buried beneath my observance lies a most improbable spirit, tightly masked with goodness, seeds sown in the eager ground, yet drained of a verdict.

The raw soil expects my naked descent, true kinship above all else and free of the unyielding crypt, that I might befall eternal life.

South mourns victims of deadly tornadoes
Growl and rumble! Carry away the shells to join this; the song of life; melodic sprouts to water and feed, nourish with Love over belief…

Libya says Gaddafi survives air strikes, but son killed
Let me howl and roar above the falling metal, scream and cry over such mortal loathing that infinite voices might join with me, wed with my brothers and sisters, and unite in reason the cause of one…

Super-Civilization Might Live Off Black Holes
As a child, I imagined myself a Superman with cape and glove, an alien saving man from himself, me from me, from man’s want to split, divide and murder Love. But, might I live upon the cusp of imagination and cease my account with any certainty?

© 2011 by mark prime



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