They will come.
The healing, the joy, the peace will come.
Like the howling winter wind
that shears away
the bark of a dead tree
alone in the forest;
the loss in life
the pain
the hurt
the wounds
shear away
what I think is real
and leave only behind
what is real,
what transcends.
The healing, the joy, the peace will come.
Like the howling winter wind
that shears away
the bark of a dead tree
alone in the forest;
the loss in life
the pain
the hurt
the wounds
shear away
what I think is real
and leave only behind
what is real,
what transcends.

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