Weary this world where dirt flings stain.
Dreary the swirl in crude terrain.
Pain seeps through stuff to corrode zest,
Troubles make rough to cancel fest.
Strange is the way of tempest found,
Fear speaks to say with empty sounds.
Hope floods to purge the lonely dark,
Love funds the urge to light a spark.
Easy finds fit with modest grain,
Feel cheery wit...
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