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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1761431
A cry for escape.
Take me from these wasted lands,
teeming with their concrete fields,
To where the forests command the sky,
And life expands from every stem.

Let worlds collide on obscure lines,
Where margins give life to new beginnings,
And may we find in coming times,
The seeds of growth and songs of spring.

So sing me now to heaven,
From these sorrows that I know,
From broken skylines rising,
To field and flowers wild they grow.

Take me from this dying growth,
Killing as it spreads from land to land,
Shackle me not to iron trees,
Grant me this my last command.

So let the Eagle soar on high;
The wild beasts roam far and near.
May the works of God be all I see,
And the wolf song all I hear.
© Copyright 2011 Turtle ~ KanyáthƐko:wa:h (marnts at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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