The candle flame you lit of tender heart has melted me. The soil of life you ploughed; become a mire drowning me to nought. The victory cries you gave breath, now only sound in silent tears of memory. All spoken out to desert of words; from infant babble to death groan in moments. And do you still not see? Do you still not hear? Will you not know? Of course … It was I who let the burn, let the flood, let the sound fade out. It was I who let the groan erupt, the snare and trap take hold. It was I who looked the other way. I who would not hear. I who could not know. So come … Reshape my molten heart, Plant your seed in me again, Roar your victory Give me life. You always see. You always hear. You always know.
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