What was once sacred

Imagine being born into a world in which the gift of love came in a box wrapped with twine rather than a velvet sash, as a gift forgotten, left under the tree, yet all the others, finely adorned have been taken, oh how they did catch the eye.

Had the gift of love been opened what teeming joy would have entered hearts.

No soul stoppped to think that the greatest of joys may dwell in the barest of boxes.

He who longs for the quiet surrender of love, the love held on high, that love enshrined by the ink of gentle men must endure a world of games and deceitful advances while he hopes far beyond the horizon with a speared side.   


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