The difference lies in days unmarked,
In rhythm, not in rhyme
The pages turn, are counted well,
But plot reads not the time.
For each bold text is marked unique
Oblivi'us to the book,
As times collide, both word and soul,
Both dreams and law are shook.
Some place between reality
And heaven's aura'd glow
There lies a shore where day's adrift,
Laden with mem'ries, go.
Upon this bank, a share of hope,
No clock will e'er embark,
Nor solemn, binded, scripted scrap
With hist'ries much too stark.
The difference lies between the lines
Beside the book laid by,
When, paused, the world forgets its script,
And heaven heaves a sigh.
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