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Still-Borne

Never build a castle 
of sand.
As a house of cards,
it will descend.
Swallowing itself,
then 
dissolving into ocean.
Ashes to ashes
dust to dust
migrating, filtrating,
recoiling from land.
It will stand aside and recede,
shunting the life 
given.
Driven from existence
by existence
itself.
As the child
to myself;
still-borne.

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