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Found, Oval and Final

de Altar Of Plagues

A balm in your hands
It has begun to hide
Once more
(Left as) the one awake

A script knotted in a hand
Absent and building
And looming in the air
Hung and thin between (sparks of sunlight)

The dark and the dark
All the hours
Numbers and worlds well-tuned
Not all thing are well wound – there are joys
But I am bound to follow you

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