Loneliness Times,
Dense evening is bare,
Photons beam in the backward,
Carelessly looks vacant forward.
What Have I done to you Father?
What else my vacation is?
How in a sandy land, -why,
I am here in passion's lease!
In thousands post I stumble,
My clear sights prove blind,
A ship no sailor, no rudder,
Floats on the grace of wind.
Above! Look above,
Urges my pity upon me,
A destination you may find,
From the lessons of the naught behind.
Some one of your special,
A special of the specials may come,
To unburden you of the pains of your lung,
And 'Surely surely' Faith would proclaim,
'Here I am, a furlong gap, -jump, please jump'
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