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Allen Fitzjames Armstrong


Johannesburg, South Africa

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Inspire Me God


Allen Fitzjames Armstrong

I beg God for inspiration,
The saviour of the idle,
The fate that is so rare.
The muse is who I pray for in times of deprivation.
The muse is who I cling to when no one else is there.

I thank God for inspiration,
The saviour of the idle,
The fate that is so rare.
The muse's voice hails a new creation,
And it seemes to me fair
That the creation is not mine but her's who gave me motivation.



Allen Fitzjames Armstrong

In the morning she laughed in a girlish giggle and kissed her father good bye.
He thinks to himself, "What a beautiful girl she is."
Indeed, she is the apple of his eye.

They walk together with no sense of direction.
Lost in their desire,
They advance further into the night that will forever change their ways.
It will consume her girlish laughter and steal his boyish gaze.

They caress and are helpless and protected in each others arms.
They breathe each others breath and taste each others charms.

They are pulled into the swirling vortex
And reach the point of no return.
Now it is inevitable, infinity is near,
And not long after moon-rise nothing is the same.

What is done, is done.
All that is won, is won,
And all that is lost, is lost and gone forever.

Life Eternal


Allen Fitzjames Armstrong

Do not be afraid
As although life is a brief candle below the window
Soon to burn itself out,
When it does inevitably die
God shall place, by his own hand,
Another candle on the outside of the window
By his own constant light to be lit.
Thus although each bright lihgt's light is limited,
There is no end to the eternal light that shall forever shine.