This tale is true, this tale is mine..
Of hearts own knowledge upon centuries of time...
I, whose breath now compels upon a foreign tongue..
Yet withal its foundations may bear lineal kin..
Shall proclaim to you what bears within...
For worlds apart within a singular soul..
Lies the deepening hope, the wish to become whole...
Envy may have struck such ways, seeing those who bear their place..
Yearning to compel everlasting change upon all these days...
Lastly though, such failure overwhelming the hand..
Burning all ambition into the depths of darkened sand..
Disconsolate from all reproach of a lasting and meaningful place...
Though something did not estrange..
As eyes bearing upon heavens high..
For revelation upon thee relived its truth..
Smiling with undiminished hope, like in the days of youth...
Part of this world I may never be, for all that it has, and I may never see..
For freedom stains the hands whose own world they shape..
Where minds own boundaries lay cut, for imagination to escape...
Now and forever, loneness shall not bear at my side, even if others had held me denied..
For these days of old have long fallen into the night, as a new day rises, upon a distant shores tide...














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