Cognizant of the Past

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Spawned and cognizant of 

Riches and chronicle, 

Peering turned glances to knives

From a painted monacle, 

 

While the heart of a rose

Stays inure,

Whisps of soul tend

To be lured.

 

Fond of quixotic realities

Intoxicating minds, 

Sand traveling skyward

Leaving heaps of binds.

 

Physical marks surfaced 

Trending as stories,

Earth grinded thoroughly

Scattered from quarries.

 

Blood pounds at 

The foot of Destiny,

Swimming stranded 

While moaning foolishly.

 

Lessons burned thinly inforced

In shards of glass,

Cut the chain and toss down the ball

Tied to the past. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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