The revelations of the worlds' devout -
are but stories from the other side.
Before the wise as prophets burned,
they told their brothers and to sleep returned.
Strange, though, don't you think?
That of the myriad who pass through the dark door
not one returns to tell us of that road,
which to discover we must travel, too.
I'm not afraid to die -
not here, not now
the laden bough.
It's just that there's so much
I have to live for now,
speed the plough.
You and I are...
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