Continuance
By Pat G
In an ancient burial placewhen man was but a seedthe charcoal symbols of his racewere drawn for Gods to heed...yet round that frigid mountain facecold winds still whisper need.In a sealed and mortared spacewhen man proclaimed his owngod Kings and Queens will ever chasetheir after life and throne..yet on a changing desert scapehot winds erode old stone.In that golden land of yorewhen woman birthed a sonthe bloody cross of Christian lorewould silence Herod's tongue...yet on a hill in Bethlehemnew murmurs have begun.In a Gray and crowded placewhere city people dwellthe golden spires of church and hopestill beckon with a bell...yet on a modern street downtownthere's still a place called Hell. Written November 25th, 2001 © on Nov 24 2001 06:09 PM PST, Pat Grantt 0 • 10
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"In an ancient burial placewhen man was but a seedthe charcoal symbols of his racewere drawn for Gods to heed...yet round that frigid mountain facecold winds still whisper need.In a sealed and mortared spacewhen man proclaimed his owngod Kings and Queens will ever chasetheir after life and throne..yet on a changing desert scapehot winds erode old stone.In that golden land of yorewhen woman birthed a sonthe bloody cross of Christian lorewould silence Herod's tongue...yet on a hill in Bethlehemnew murmurs have begun.In a Gray and crowded placewhere city people dwellthe golden spires of church and hopestill beckon with a bell...yet on a modern street downtownthere's still a place called Hell...."