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Chain
2005-05-23

As the silver moon rises,
growing taller over, over,
the sullen trees that have,
grown in the fields that,

Once where; a weary
traveler arrives at a place
that he now can call his
home. Yet, there is still,

trouble in his heart,
fears that he hides,
and wishes not to face,
and as the moon grows,

ever higher in the mystic,
sky, he grows tired, but,
more feelings emerge,
from within the torrent,

that brews inside his mind.
He knows what he must face,
who he must confront,
but can he do this,

can he make peace with
The one inside himself.

James O. Stewart