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Soaring high above the tops of the clouds,
Towards a destination few dates to go,
A return if sorts to a life that would be both old and new.
The moon reflects across the ice crystals below,
Giving it an etherial glow,
Their tops shorn flat by the wind,
Giving the appearance of a calm lake in the summer,
Like glass from another realm.
A decision was made,
A war still raging inside the heart,
As new obstacles are thrown up.
Willingly leaving family behind to throw one's self into danger,
To put service before self once again.
That great apex has been reached,
And one can feel the descent,
To skip upon that lake top,
Gradually sinking through like the proverbial stone,
To arrive at the next leg of the trip.
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