All souls of those I loved
Remain translated inside of me
Like a body of literature compact
A bright array of time’s swinging singularities
So many harps hung upon the balconies
All these guitars twanging for
Cheer divine, our star like courses
Comprehend the racing years
In wordless ascension towards our
Own kinds of bliss, mortal hearings
We are garlands of quatrains
Stanzas of the unyielding Almighty’s word
How we endure like spoken flutes
Of alien thresholds, invisible feelings
I am not sure, all spirits of those I treasured
Remain like jewelled ornaments
On the lips of children not my own
They will not take the earth by force
But by the bodies of their subtlety.
Wuji Seshat 
Wow, that is profound and very beautiful. 🙂
I’m capable of profound, but usually in some morbid way. I’m glad you keep coming back 🙂 It’s always nice for a writer to feel appreciated. As it’s such an isolated form of art.
I come back because your writing is so rewarding to read. 🙂
Well you can count on a lot of lines from me, 5% of which will make you come back 😛 I really am addicted to writing. So do please enjoy.