Crass are wrought iron leaves.
And all the trappings of belief,
I am for some, but main for you...
for first view, new spring, for new.
You are this darkness. You are this light.
Where in my wanderings, you are my might.
Sounds adrift on waves sure blue,
you are a dying breath but - you are you.
hang low this horrid head, hang low my speak.
Violet beams of evergreen have never been
© Copyright 2016 matmoo. All rights reserved.
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