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Moon Clock

The ancient female spirit is dancing to the ticking hands of the moon clock.
Under that moon, somewhere in the ocean of tears and blood,
Among solitary icebergs of pride and islands of doubt,
Where the Truth of the Ego and the Truth of the Soul
Swim toward or away from each other,

Somewhere there in the middle,

I shall meet you if you are brave.
I shall guide you if you are in dark.
I shall sing to you if you are tired.
I shall embrace you if you are cold.
I shall love you if you don’t need it.