Pilgrim
Long into the twisted wood,
past the oak and branch and briar;
deep into the gath’ring dark,
past the circle of your fire.Further than the distant stars,
twinkling beyond the sky;
deep into your very heart
where you hide behind your lies.Past the heavens and the earth
and the realms of men and God;
you, who seek out happiness,
onward, onward must you trod.
Notes
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