Pilgrim of Yore A journey to all my tomorrows To tread no more upon past sorrows. Wrinkles to etch the map of flesh Lines of white, no longer to refresh. The transition of body, soul and mind To a higher plane of understanding, no longer blind. I seek not to live twice the past But a measure of peace, solutions to last. Nothing physical goes beyond death's decay Except the actions of all my yesterdays. Written by lapiz_Aki
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