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Lay lo! the crashing gates
of winding darkness drawing near
come to us who wait.
Did you? the banner bard,
spoke of dreaming decisions at night
and whispers fading.
Hear ye! who wouldn't choose
the way of the warrior over the defeated
and drink blood aplenty.
For he! who said the world
was bright and real and round and full
knew nothing of it.
In us? are two spirits
the poet and the scientist
fluctuating fog
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