Cold
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Cynthia Buhain-baello
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Cold is the heart that denies
There is something beyond all these,
Though it feels, it closes the eyes
And accepts only what it sees.
Cold is the life thus so lived
Emptied of Hope and of Joy
Given Time it had never received
What in Truth it is there to enjoy.
Cold is what melts in the Light
Conquered by the warmth of release,
Embraced it can't last but take flight
For the light always brings Peace.
All rights reserved Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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