Air To The Throne

Poem By Samuel Hall

As long as the eyes stay closed,
They conceal a resource of images.
Like dreams floating by in the space we can’t see,
Until they rest upon our thoughts.
Forced to continue to repeat,
A cycle that we know will never end.
To pursue our independence in the form of a dove,
Having wings to go above and beyond.
The notice of thought and the process within,
To attempt to see what’s inside the wall.
A hope to know the secrets of mystery,
Even though we conclude we can’t know…

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