DAILY In every hour, Do we come to the table To barter love? Is the journey Parsifal’s tale, Seeking Self In all the wrong places? Do we head for the shelf With first kiss? Seeds of passion sculpting countenance Velveteen Rabbits with luck, Damaged beyond repair Replete with love. Is pain the cradle of compassion? Is love the mother that rocks it? What counsel for risking all When bartering life with death? What hope without it?
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