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Thirty-seven's way far out to sea.
Home is now within. The child's the dream.
In darkness you're a lantern in a chain
Reaching cross the waves in love and pain,
Though less alone by day than you might seem.
Years pass. The wind is yours. You're strong and
free.
So does your late youth linger
gracefully,
Even as your eyes subdue their gleam,
Vibrant still, though darker. And the plain,
Easy truths dissolve in mystery.
Nor will you want to visit them again. |
