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Torment holds me down,
Pain flows like blood,
Whisping across my face.
Laying here with words unsaid, lives unlived,
Wishing for time,
Yet the hourglass is empty.
Cries for peace, caught in my throat,
Silenced by fears and unfulfilled dreams,
Echo from by body and go unheard.
Light shines from within,
As the blessed Seraphim descend, gossamer wings aglow,
Radiant in their angelic beauty.
I am beckoned onward,
Outward, from my broken vessel,
And I find peace in their eyes.
Tom Stanley
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