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The Lark

Drift through the dark,
the night so long,
listen, so sings the lark,
its voice trials, its song,
is sad, without light,
and it means nothing,
for it understands, without sight,
and this world, its crushing,
all hope is gone,
in our passion and lusting,
and we sit and pray, and we hope we are wrong,
we try and curb our longing,
to compromise, bend,
the future is coming,
in the end.





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