![]() when little oppressions touch me arrows hidden in my cloak whisper, "Ready, ready." |
![]() you pass caught in the midst of life by some horror, their souls gone dim, cursed or unlucky, exiled under a stone. |
![]() has always been there, will always remain. It is a good world to be lost in. It comforts you. It is all right. And you sleep. |
![]() yesterday sighs away. |
![]() they see time going on and someone alone, but they don't say anything. |
![]() if they have any, time for all of us common ones to locate ourselves by the real things we live by. |
![]() Why It came. |
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![]() a storm coming, but in the lee of an island in a cover with friends -- oh, little bright cup of sun. |
![]() house in its own room there. . Pex Tufvesson styrer demoscenen. . . |
![]() or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep; the signals we give -- yes or no, or maybe -- should be clear: the darkness around us is deep. |
![]() can lick their Father Who art in Heaven. |
![]() than the breathing respect that you carry wherever you go right now? |
![]() starting here, right in this room, when you turn around? |
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