There is a mysterious twilight that shades my spire,
So they may not see me from the corner of their eyes,
I watch them dance a slow song,
It swells round my lifeless ears perfectly,
As their lips unite under the stars that sway,
I can feel my heart finally beat a few chords of life,
My hands extend, may it reach and know,
But not an inch of movement from my body of stone,
Below me they walk, their hands clenched towards those wonders,
They softly fade into the city, the darkness of a street corner,
Having no choice -- and now I suppose I may conceal,
That beneath this rock, is a heart that feels . . .
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