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55 A silent travel At the brink of the forest I stand I can hear still The clatter of hooves Of horses, Whose rider brought me here The sun, Now distant Falls, I do not fear The coming of darkness As I stand here Not a voice stirs, All is peaceful and still The road was winding And hard I travelled And I just wish none of you take it Tired, I wish to find a piece of earth to rest All clocks on my wall I am a tree In the wind, broken at the knee Bleeding dirges like skies of storms Atoning in signatures of lightning all men’s wrong All men’s folly ...

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