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White Tombs

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Some young children are afraid of blackness
The fear of what hides behind the deep gloom
The threads of light, now cut into slackness
The walls closing in, forming the child’s tomb
But as you grow older its white you fear
When all is seen and you find a great lack
Worse than black skies are horizons now bare
When all that you missed you weep to get back
It’s shadows that prompt children to explore
And caves inspire them to light up the world
For us, the white shouts that there is no more
Indeed, all hopes have already been hurled
When everything’s nothing, and nothing all
We’re still scared to move, lest we start to fall



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