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to the living

a star in every corner of the webbed symphony


aligning as the music floats from somewhere


beneath a tree, as each note takes to winged


feet fanning the dying flame, takes to running


just to be back againe, just to see, the reflection


in your eyes of something beautiful, and feel


once more the heat, and not turn to face away


from the dead

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The Hourglass

Point A Needle To The Sky, Centered Minds Point A Gun To My Head, Circumstantial Ends Point A : The Diamond Sutra, Centrifical Forces Yet There Are One Thousand Arms Tied Up In The Book Of The Dead An

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never was there such a hand beneath the sin play to the part of the devil's grinning twas there such a death as to it

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