Perched on a twisting fairway
Balanced on the nape
Aimed; airily, away
Staring all agape
We try.
Search all the endless winding pathways
Turn every grey stone or brown leaf
Percent by percent a bar fills, stay
In ceaseless circles chase grief,
Waiting and yearning, nay
Wasting not learning
We obey.
Turn on your weary processor, play
A heavenly tune, bleed and tear
Your ugliest accept and slay
Build a golden archway
Ascend, today.
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