Matthew Vincent Ford
Shimmering, glimmering light burns bright
Though some would say it dims.
Shining purity greets my sight
When'ere I think of him.
The scythe flashes now and again
Removing what matters not Waiting for the last amen
When light is all his lot.
The trifles gone, the soul alone
Remains to freely glide Where countless are the ones who've flown,
He waves the flag of Pride.
O Vincent brave and Vincent strong
Among the stars, sing that song He has, pure, sung all along
For so to the ages he belongs.
April 1, 2017
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