In this dark,
I am thinking of a lightly lamb,
to graze the grass of my loneliness.
In this dark,
I see my arms beneath the original rain
that fell on the first prayers of men.
In this dark,
I open a door to the ancient lanes
to the golden image of mythical caves.
In this dark,
I saw the roots.
And,
in this melting darkness,
for the ever-growing pot of death
I explained the fluid scent of Water and Earth.
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