Doves encircle an orangish sun
In a baking desert full of crosses
These sacred lands of burial
Where each await thier resurrection
At night, the birds loftily perch
Through a moon soaked midnight
Amongst the sun beaten shrubs,
Rest remains with those who seek it
There are worlds such as these
Scattered like fertile seeds
Embedded in my mind
Engraved in my memory
Perhaps what I envision
I have lived long ago..
Perhaps these scattered dreams
Will burst and bloom again
Ushering me closer to home
In the skies of my spirit
Where I travel and roam
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