That is the temple there.
The symbol that they stole.
A border thin as hair
Between Bob Frost’s two roads.
But we’re not here to fight.
We dance a certain beat.
Incorrigable night
Will glide upon our feet.
The way it crowns is good
Her charms decide it all.
She guides us to the wood,
And bares the fertile wall.
This vision she will keep.
Eternal in her sleep.
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