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A quaint poem about a simple object. |
| A spark of light that I take with me, An illumination of comfort is all I see. I can drive it into the ground, And when lit, I can be found. A sign of warning, Or a feel of mourning. Any feeling can occur when you look into its light… It can be a sign of direction, Or a spot of meditation… A fixation of power and comfort… it's a beautiful sight. |