From obscure realms the whisper of my conscience mutated into screaming. Only gathering my cross carrying the load when the soul cried out for meaning. As the sun I arose the hero of the day, victorious from the dark night's fight. Beaming away insanity, like a baby emerging into the light.
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Smith Shine Poetry 
This is a wonderful poem!
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Thanks Susan. That was a lovely comment to start my day. Im glad you think so😊
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