November 19, 2009
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As I rise at your will
You present me with open arms off warmth and joy

As you drip your juices of pink and orange
They splatter rays of brightness onto my plate

Calling my name
The way the devil calls his children

But you’re not as dangerous as you portray yourself
When you’re a graceful dove flying through the eastern sky
Your beauty then fades
Yet you go unnoticed by busy commuter

The day begins
As you rise in the eastern sky

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