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Emptied in the brume of what lies before
that which leaves me dreaming, not of better times
but of past days, not with nostalgia
but with fervor
I don't want to relive those times
rather there is an ember in my soul,
kindred and taunting that flame
lost in the stones, that gallant wall
of my cradled hopes
Dethroned within my own semblance
that which subdues my temper, not from anger
but quieted of impatience, not for reward
but for leisure
I don't want to release my self
while there is a desire within me,
passionate and evoking that flame
built upon the earth, that fertile ground
of my inherent design
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