All things of Beauty
	Renew themselves.
	Though there are seasons
	Of Darkness,
	Of Decay and Sorrow,
	No thing
	Which is Good and Lovely
	Is ever lost.
	Love is perennial,
	Spanning the chasms
	Of defeat and despair
	Which split
	Life's landscapes.
	Hope is eternal,
	Immortal in the face
	Of odds insurmountable.
	Faith is constant,
	Surging quietly
	In the veins
	Of Time and Humanity.
	This Holy Triumvirate
	Sustains us
	When all else tears asunder.


© Fred O'Bryant. All rights reserved.

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