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The Traveller

Harken my identity,
for it seems all but lost,
begone in the obscenity,
to find a better host,
and my mind does find,
in riddle and song, poem and hymm,
those ties that bind,
and follow the road to them,
for the path is new,
and the lands unviewed,
and past and future lie ahead,
to mask the way,
a travellers wish, to finish the day.





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