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He lies quiet now |
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In the nothing |
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And there is no epitaph |
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No stone |
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Yet - his legacy flows |
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Like a river |
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Walker of barren paths |
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Seer of night |
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Friend of shadows |
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A carrier of light |
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And his legacy flows |
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Like a river from ice |
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The hungry heart opens |
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And drinks from this fountain |
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So cold |
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There are no promises |
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In his solitary grave |
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There is no salvation |
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Only words |
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But what then are these precious streams |
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Of coldness from the heights? |
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They will never reach the fields below |
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What is this silent grave |
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To those who never sought to find it? |
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What is greatness to the dead? |
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And his legacy flows |
|
Like a river from ice |
|
The hungry heart opens |
|
And drinks from this fountain |
|
So cold |