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Committal

It is done and finished. I fold it gently
And stow it in the innermost recess.

Nothing can change it now: it is immune
From fire and flood, from theft and from retouching.

The colours cannot fade: it will be only
My eyes that blur, my fingers losing touch.

It will exist, inviolate, complete,
Though I no longer draw it forth again.

And slowly it will blend, a grain of diamond,
With the sand of time and rhythm of eternity.
 

by Damaris West

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