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Spare Me

31 Dec

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Spare me, I am afraid;
not of death or dying,
not of age or ending,
but of becoming less,
of losing my faculties,
of fading into the dim,
where I would but sleep,
not in quiet slumber,
but distant of mind,
‘ere thoughts unravel,
‘ere memory break,
not with loss of youth,
but with feign recall;
for not to remember
song of whippoorwill,
or phases of the moon,
or taste of ripe plums;
then, ’tis burdensome,
this age, once pleasured,
which has now become
the ending I feared;
spare me this madness,
that my mind is still,
that hands yet grasp,
that eyes connect me
to the world I still see,
tho’ cannot set to lyric;
is there nothing more,
that I may need recall,
tho’ without shadow,
yet stay upon this earth,
and pray, lose myself
among countless stars.

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1 Comment

Posted by on December 31, 2015 in My Poetry

 

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One response to “Spare Me

  1. ♥ love powered ♥

    December 31, 2015 at 2:51 pm

    i know the feeling

    Liked by 1 person

     

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