How little I live
to jade a meaning
out of this short life
Every time I see
Mystical alluring of the senses
A slight tinge dwarf my pain
Many occasions pass
Looking straight to skies
Every stars wait sentry to its calling
I may not be able to attend
The making of my own cemetery
But will take a deaf furthering forward
How little I know
the measure of vastness
Not a length comes out of its darkness
How limit, accords;
to wane my thoughts
How little it becomes of a yard
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