A bright, shining city
Upon which I gaze every night
From my dark, lonely, far-    
     away--
but warm and safe--abode.

Sometimes I dream of a life
      there,
Even a short one,
But I haven't left my home
In so long.

The travel to the city alone
Could forever leave me
      ******--
No true home to be found
     there,
If I even complete the journey.

If I go, my future home--
      maybe--
And my true abode--surely--
Will wilter, and die.
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