The Way of the World
Thinking in our reasoned light
No answer blocks our say.
Running from towards the night,
We carry on our way.
In our gloried human right
We worship sun and day,
Spurning thoughts revealing light
And carry on our way.
Heedless in our hopeless height,
The heretics we flay.
Running downwards in the night,
Our golden glory gray.
Through cold fog and blighted sight
We barely see the ray.
Truthful and forgiving light;
We tarry on our way.
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