Even though I can't remember,
I used to cringe my memory.
I tried not to realize:
there's death in being alive.
Black as the greatest of the hours,
I live in constant conflict of powers.
My mud soul still breathes,
But not enough for you plus me.
Late you came, dear.
But not too much, if you ask.
Late enough to bring joy,
Here where I stand barefeet,
Now: Awaken.
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