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Nov 2011
Everything we leave behind
That which fails the test of time
Purging that by which we’re confined
Fixing all that we can refine
But we can never reach the title
The distant goal which is our prime
Our efforts strike us as too wild
To reach that perfected design
But we are set on absolution
Cleaning out our deepest mind
Embracing this inward revolution
Seeking newness undefined
Written by
John Marsh
859
 
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