Life is false ! Life is fleeting
and tombstones we be ;
Beneath us do thou dwelst
as spirit departed body
did the grave lash with claws
into earthen womb :
By worms be devoured !
Blue, blue
but she's not here, and I miss her,
as our shades depth,
are we the rarest colour in nature,
yet only in unison shone as lustre
soon we must depart.
Still soul lingers - whispers
was it left as scribbles
to inspire those whom may
our earprints notice
of longforgotten ways -- ;
where heart yearned
not to exploit - but sang :
Blue, blue
it is not love, but for necessity
did we entwine
to leave spectres, shells behind,
of our former colours as wind
blew clouds at drift.
Small or great men alike
it is only to listen now !
Act not in the present but
in the presence of Self
for what is left behind is
cast forth to a child :
Inheritance passed on.
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