Ash Upon My FaceA Poem by Alfred Kukitzwhere I will be when I die.Words come in scattered dreams, The veil lifts in self's prophetic scheme Amid bolts of lightening, amid thunderous storms, comes a place of peace known as ash upon my face. With Bach, Beethoven, Brahms I'll float on music's wings with my canine friends.
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Added on September 1, 2014Last Updated on September 1, 2014 AuthorAlfred KukitzDeering, NHAboutYes, I'm still here. Just jazzing up my about me story. Sorry I don't die at the end. more.. |

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