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von Daniel Rossen

Looking out on the end, your failures etched in fallow land.
The flames leap towards the clouds and draw whispers from the croud.
Return to dark again, go on put it out.
It′s time again for your return, now find the peace you deserve.
The stars hang in a shroud, and those whispers turn to shouts.
Return to form again, go to let 'em out.
Call him what you want, a coward or a clown, light up the fire again and throw him on.