O' Chosen Child!
Thy mountains do cry,
For the lifted souls,
Most broken in night,
And day are dead most,
Completely in heart,
Lost to the baneful,
And hateful mice that,
Seem to conquer in me!
O' Chosen Child
Thy naked mind most,
And assuredly taken,
From the rights of,
My destiny most needed,
In eternal drift from,
Ocean to sea from sea,
To shyly stars fallen,
In hopes fated to win!
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