God Alone

Altar Of Plagues

Who was born here and danced with infancy?
The stones let me go, (but) to make a difference their names are kept
Expecting half with nothing to find

Like a lighthouse, a wild nothing moved to an empty place
Tended embers of life fires, envelop, something wide and moral
It takes and leaves, flicker, heavy, growing, leeched

The son will rise
The son has died

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