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The Cave I know the pit is there, the blackened ice Which forms about my heart has caught me fast And I am prisoner in the clasp of rights Not given, nor respected in the past. The caring which was not, will never be There is no way to turn and change what was And I am gray from pain turned in on me By others and myself, as abuse does. How hard it is to let this river run Its course towards the ocean of the night Unchecked, to let the growing darkness come, To voluntary seek the death of light. They say that in the dark the light is born And freedom comes, if you embrace the morn. |
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