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Here's where I'll be putting my poems that are of the lighted path. |
| Stolen is a heart of glass Make my wine and serve it cold All these things peak and pass Stories fade and fealings fold Touch a delicate flower to grow Yet what is strong like tangled weeds Passes on to further valleys low Sins shall be a flurry onto dark deeds Whist all wither away as I tip my hat I tip it to the sky and that is that |