Here I stand Motionless Lost, Unable to care, To reason, In this dense fog Where the past is no comfort And the future futile. I am the edge. It would be better If I had no name, Here in the big empty. But I could be called Anew. I don’t think I could go. Utter not within My hearing plaintiffs. I am the edge. I have seen The trinkled tributaries Swell and rush away, The sun embarrased By the day It made, Hide behind a distant ridge.
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