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Lovable mission of life makes this poem
Fighting through the sands
Traversing the open lands
Breathing harsh, drawing hot, fetid air
Eyes scanning the lanscape for foes, trying to remain ever aware
Ever vigilant, a constant presence
Tho the danger level seems formality, keep watch with alll your senses
Your specific surroundings will remain mystery
Your duties I can only speculate, but I wish you to carry
A special thing when you go.
Me, my heart, my love and all that I know
Perhaps my fears will be settted
You are not near dangers' heart tho it still has me nettled
But among the hellish, stinking rot,
Inflamed by the sun, exposed skin raw from sand and grit, fear not
Tho you may have little to occupy your time
Aside from work or the bleached dunes you hope never to climb
I stand with you, near you, inside you
Gaurding what lies within, there's nothing else you have to do
your poetry is angry, honest, sensual, moving, deep, dark, brave and beautiful.
Well, since no one seems to want to leave a comment about me, I will. Joy, your poetry, sometimes amusing, sometimes sassy, sometimes dark, never ceases to amaze. There, that about sums it all up. Okay, I'm being silly again, oh well.