Every Heart Has A Crumbling Monastery
M
Mark Heathcote
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Every heart has a crumbling monastery.
A faithless path searching for fresh hope
Worshiping false idols hopelessly
So many unanswered prayers go
Left unheard in chambers,
sent underground to the incinerator.
But let's not forget to also, remember
that even in late December, there is still hope of a saviour
A spring that'll resurrect every fallen blossom on the bough eternal forever.
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