a golden rise of sun
spinning light into the day
while death is weaving threads of fear
like spiders web
on humid clay
somewhere beyond is running
what is called a secret way
where life and death and life again
has nothing more to say

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a golden rise of sun
spinning light into the day
while death is weaving threads of fear
like spiders web
on humid clay
somewhere beyond is running
what is called a secret way
where life and death and life again
has nothing more to say