I was born beneath a dying star
its deep red glows from the past, afar
a light set free on a far flung journey
Among night fires alone in the cold
defiant flames that yet grow old
the wane of life counts me from the start
down fleeting joys and pain, fill the heart
as if wind-born sands falling through my hands.
The lash of forgiveness leaves the deepest scar
I race against the night, beneath a dying star.
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