Time from its premitive
Has been sensitive with nature
Growing and changing in a holistic perspetive;
A dance for every creature.
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From the pen of the abused sad child I present this to u
I curse the day I was bored,
A greater curse be this day
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We are all Pilgrims
from far-away lands
like allians we come
but this is my real home
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Before this year comes to an end,
Let everyone to my call kindly attend,
To the earths furthest end, this will I send;
If I have offended you, lets make amend.
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Her last Dolour
Where your treasure lies
There the heart dwells;
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The foolery of men oft provoke me
Those who build their faith in this blind illusion
'I shall not die, ' as if life will always be
As their wishes are and their untrue vision.
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I woke up early this morning
saw the little time passing
looked at the flowers before me laying
gazed at the birds singing
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Bird sings from the eaves
The heart ekes more and cheers,
But in sorrow immersed
With saturated joy, unfained,
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I was watching a TV show
Saw the nature in a simultaneous flow
The child is father of the man
The daughter is called but woman
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#The_Dolour (the death of Jesus)
On that mountain of sacrifice
Is erected but two alters;
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