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He draws near the periphery |
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In disbelief on delivery |
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Came child from the deep inferno |
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Crusty head of dead volcano |
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Heartless crow with brittle beak |
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Wooden leg too schocked to speak |
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Lilac dust of a woman's hair |
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A wooden cross a paper prayer |
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A stone where her body lay |
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A stack of feathers a pile of hay |
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A mushroom for an eye ball |
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A mustache from the snow fall |
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Worms weave a ring where fairies square dance |
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Queens and kings fairies weave wigs with eyelash |
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Trance music makes the fairies dance |
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From the caves of snail shells |
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Echoes the mutter medieval spells |
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Mystery flows her wicked river |
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Of thorn and blade and silver sliver |
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Bending 'round the clover fields |
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Their sapling stems don't break but yield |
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Her pain inflicts no arguments |
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Must learn to sway and un-arrange |
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As earth she makes her final passage |
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After humans long have ravaged |
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Vanished with all maps for motion |
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Upward angels last devotion |
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One by one escort us home |
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To leave the elementals free to roam |
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To bathe in the last of ocean's foam |
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To beach comb the nuclear debris |
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Our plastic toys and our metal trees |
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On the perfect day you'll find the breeze |
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Once blew the pollen the feet of bees |
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Now cry the stars when upon the earth |
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Their gaze might rest a nostalgic burst |
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A lament be heard through all the cosmos |
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Of the dying planet with fallen foes |