Death our boon
The Father's gift
Lest we forget
Our first home
Vain the wish
To live forever in matter
When death is so much stronger
Out in the whispering morning
Where the dead gather for prayer
Trying to comfort the living
I have come upon their camps
Heard stories by their fires
Where death chokes on flesh and dies
And only we seeds are left
Waiting for life to flower
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