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- by Linn Barnes

-Linn Barnes

Whirl will be known
and floods will rise

high ground will crumble
fall and meet the valley

while fleeing naked priests 
will scream for protection

to long dead fantasies
neither near nor far

never really found save 
in desperate dreams

on lonely sad deathbeds
chiseled into greying stone

to the eternal damnation
of the eyes of man gone blind

to the avarice of the few
who survive since they can

upon the long suffering poor 
whose time will surely come.