Poetry: Shangri-La

Age stricken with a permanent smile
A heart that still beats beautiful drums
A conscience that could house paradise
A mind that never strays from heaven’s paths

A hand feeble from years of good work
Nurturing and cultivating greatness
A leg that has never left behind blood
That has never left a friend in the dark

A stomach filled with the purest of waters
No rot from dead filth
No sinful poison from the past
Nothing too bad to keep and too dangerous to spew

Eyes may have seen the worst
Still they see the beauty at every turn
They see the angel in every vessel
They look longingly at home; heaven.


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