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The Evermore
What depths are there Where even existing has much below it What heights are there Where beyond is such a petty thought
And here I stand In the midst of anywhere Is there anything that holds me in place?
I see no brace for plunging I see no harness for soaring
I am wretched; I am elated And blind either way
From the depths I run until exhausted; then I sprint And when truth catches my shoulder And calls me a blindman I run still faster; my back is always blind
I reach up so high Who will stop me? As I gaze into that everbeyond
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