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Text page

A Particular Exposure

Is chained to my heart
My hands claw the earth
Searching for something
Destiny pulls me toward the sky
I feel myself wanting to reach
But my palms are still grasping

Still looking to my inherited fate
The Painted lights shine there
Gloried in the heavens
They are my history
Spoken into darkness

In its reverence I let go
I feel
My determination become flawed
With its existence apparent
I can Follow, trace,
Each faint glow
With my eye
It is there I see a glimpse of purpose
A will, not my own

Then becomes achievable
With it
Remorse is no longer consistent
It has no value
My new birth right
Prepares my disclosure
Bringing in a new
Sense of self worth

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