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Light
Rays of gold out of the silver sky
Sometimes the sun blinds, I ask why
Knowing the conclusion we must sigh
Even though it blinds, the cold has to cry
And the frozen, fog and storms must dry
These rays of gold out of the silver sky
Survive the blindness, depend on your sigh
Eventually it will shine, the fear shall die
Open your mind, I am a natural spy
Even the blind can hope and fly.
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