It is the path of sin that compels our fate And leaves us drowning like the garden Is it surrender that confuses us If not exsistence then departing

Is it the ancient soul that crouches low That through the day can never find us In our stealing glances we appear Leaving reflections just
behind us

The tender hallowed ground still holds us And whisper silence to our ears These frightened winds have always blown us Now only glisten holds us here

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