G.W. weaved his memoir while the world stood still
Deafening silence, inexplicable, miraculous sights
So it seems, yet here on sacred fields
By the North, soon after dusk...
Look East! Stars and lights dances and glides
In concious streams, like brush works
On vast canvass thru the bosom of early autumn realms.
Who is to know, who'd believed, of what he'd seen
The truth is out there...if only we'd dared to dream
As not too long ago, he'd been told...
"Don't be afraid, be brave...
For the skies listen with multitudes of ears!"
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