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A Cliff
A cliff stood alone,
tall and proud guard,
waiting for motherly voice, a sea,
in the stillness of the new day.
Unaware of Sun’s first glory
clouds hovered over the bay,
and asleep seemed this soul
in its tiny niches
as a breeze comes by,
a dance of sea nymphs,
in an archaic dream.
Nothing seemed anew
for the beacon of the bay,
captured by own destiny
of never discovered land.
Captured as time stood still,
as no past, nor future ever existed,
just the presence of the same visions,
and seagulls play,
the unchanged voices from a day to a day,
and fear of unknown became the hope,
the purpose and the newly found strength.
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