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Pomp
by Jason Vanderlaan

And circumstances change
But to simply say
Twelve months have past

Is to miss the point entirely.

Because I’ve seen my share of
Blood moons staining the night,
And I’ve felt the chill of
Empty suns shrouding the sky.

And when the legion of suicide stars
Left me without a guiding light,
I knew my end had come.

But I can say without a sigh
That the dead can rise one day,
And I will find my voice again.

© 2008