My truth shall arrive, unrestrained.

And like curtains flaring aside
It will swivel the myth in your eyelashes;
Making you see at last, I hope not too late,
That never more shall I lift my hand
To feel the rays of summer sunshine
Without feeling your own hand in mine
For my soul must taste of you
As the milk must, of the mother's love.
For whatever burden the world sets up on us,
I sue God, but He hears your pleadings
When mine is reverbated and see in my eyes
The tears for two...

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