Untitled
As a river flows into the sun, may a spirit flow
Its appalling morality, the divisions it has created
The mind knows without it sacred
We take life in your painting us
Even drawing out of oblivion fades
Assures incessant sorrow
Tied in a single garment of destiny
Disobedience to the messenger, an undertone form
Deepest place in our soul
If only I had wings like a dove
Lift up the stone, and you will find me anew
He utters a vote, the terrain moves
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