POEM: Epictetus in A minor

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Epictetus in A minor

Love moves through me

like a whirlwind dancing through the leaves;

plays me like once wooden flute

sang simple melodies.

The secret song that urges me

to rest before I go

trembles at the thought

of what it thinks I ought to know-

For ages upon ages

lasts a story of the dove;

admired, though misunderstood

whilst captured without love.

Created: Jun 14, 2017

Tags: poetry, lyrics, metered

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