Not to diminish in any way
His personal pain and suffering
But isn’t he also a picture
Of each of us imprisoned
In a dark cell
Abandoned by our father
Torn out of a world of light
And luxury set down
With nothing and no memory
Of the glory that was ours
And then rescued by the magic
Of our senses and this world
Straining to see through their darkness
Some inner light and warmth
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