The Dove gave me feathers,
I cannot stay.
My wings may be cumbered,
Sun shrouded, skies grey,
Cold biting, wind smiting
Shore to shore:
Yet on I shall journey,
Till on no more.
13 Jun 2008
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An autodidact's journey of self-exploration. originality guaranteed, coherency debatable.
May contain traces of science, education, the arts, and the ego.