IS THERE A PLACE?
Is there a place in this world for me,
or is it all imagined? I see some angels
on the wing again, but there's no way
I can ask. Some people talk with a gifted
tongue, paragraphs like arias they speak.
By contrast my dead tongue is tied; yes,
has died, and all words fallen away. That's
it for me, and I am alone again. The lance
that fuses with the lightning sword confuses
Heaven and conquers nothing. I guess that's
me, and I am suffering some more until I
get away, to never return again.
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