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The Pendulum
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PRINT
Have I not walked too far for my freshly strength? Labored on slavely to your seemingly endless gain As you watch it drain my pot of salt each day Emptying me of my identity, weakening my strides Bringing me to my knees and down to your arms That keep painting a thick darkness in my eyes Blinding them from your scared deceitful face As you hit me with more loads of shameful fear So I shall never raise to the truth in your eyes And realize how my victory I attained long against you how I am free; a free man and a prince to that in my father’s house by whom my freedom I attain. how foolish your ways are that you enslave a prince and think he shall never to take a knife to your neck as princes were never made to stand among dirt I shall stand strong before these giants of walls And break straight through their concrete mirage That has for long fed on my hope of freedom To one day set my heavy heart and soul free. I will run, I shall run on madly to his feet Chasing on that silent voice I hear in my ears That has always been there calling and whispering Waiting for me to open on to its words of light So it can polish my stained heart clear of darkness For he alone can give me my mirrorily heart.


Mountains crumble ::