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Born of the Guide
So many words been penned
about the world and it's end;
Still, beyond the debate,
we have been bound to sit and wait.
All the days we have faced
are now so soon to be replaced
As tomorrows unfold,
far from the stories left untold.
Once more will come the morn,
telling us another day's born;
Now a chance to start new
as the far light comes shining through.
Take from life what we may
and carry forth without dismay;
Tell your story e'er true
so it may stand up to review.
When the directions change
and you find yourself locked in chains,
Down the roads of gravel
you'll go forth in barefoot travel.
Your destination waits
and at last you can see the gates;
You'll make it there by noon,
to where the bones of the past are strewn.
The roads to home are far
and it matters not where you are;
Leave within the hour,
depart the dead and their tower.
Follow the setting sun,
keep lit the lantern when day's done.
Walk steady, straight, and true
and you will surely make it through.
Once again you'll return,
coming home as the camp fires burn;
Through all this you're reborn
and you'll rise on the coming morn.
Those you once left behind
are the ones which still have much to find;
But somewhere deep inside,
to them you'll always be their guide.
Copyright ©
Daniel Larson
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