Anatomy - Gord - Aspoet
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Gord

2017-04-06 12:00 am
All of our dreams,
All of the seen,
Streets of gold,
Earth paved silent.

Fervor of the dying,
Nobody truly leaving,
Merely living their lives.
No victims of violence, 
No solace from desire.

Further pushed from an entirety,
Exquisiteness of machined life.
Pursuant of milled tile,
Years of desire, without fight,
The boxer stands ready,
Hands firmly at his side, 
Resolve still unbroken,
Acceptance in his mind.

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