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Existential



By Mary Wacaster

Life, no more than death,
is just a place set within walls of eternity
With echoes of each generation crying their insistence.
The silence is beyond,
but the echoes ring in halls of each century
With each particle descrying answers of existence.

Eternally bound,
yet with deadly fear embracing each quaking soul,
They are walking slowly through the dark, shadowy vale
Destitute of spiritual cloak,
dried and burnished as an earthen bowl
The lonely, the silent ones, as though they dare not fail.

Where have they gone;
beyond the veil where now their footsteps fall?
Muffled cries of generations long swept beyond our ears
Is the silent blanket of beyond and spreads softly o'er their latent call.
And existence passes unanswered; unscathed by human tears.