Love is absent
Mere glimmers of a fool's gold
Dreams rail, chained and pent
And my arms have nothing to hold
The pipe, iconic for me, of reflection, rumination and good conversation. It is reminescent of Tolkien and Lewis, of good ol' chaps talking about life, the universe and the meaning of it all. The soapbox, speaks for itself, of when things need to be spoken, things that can't be held back. Welcome, reader.
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