“Come back to humanity,” she tells me;
Often I hear her, alluring my mind;
But she of all the angels is to be
Invited into my presence, to bind
Her chasing soul so my chaste body free,
And give me that which loves so sweet and kind;
“Will I see the Sun?” my reserved reply:
Does the world owe me any love at all?
For what can I not righteously deny?
I had received so much before my fall,
Yet I used my heart for less than a lie;
So what must be done when I hear this call?
To wait any longer surely a sin,
Though pushing forward is the better end.
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