O Lord!
I will not lie, aught
That withhold you away from me
Obsessed with timeless truth
I grow coldness of my breath
To pay thy wait
The lonely heart, that
Lust my howling heart
Ledge a corner of empty space
As the day descends
Night's slight frame
One of fancy rip my darkest dream
How will I acknowledge your enterprise
That blind me
Stalling every of my beat
Denizens of fire-fighters
Throng thy gate
Believing you to be true
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