If it isn't spent in wanton glee
From the first puddle I splashed
To the first mature joke I cracked
Plastered with stains of pain
And polka dotted dreams of she
Here I hear, that the world is ravaged
There is but a wail and plea
Amongst such apathy and sorrows
Lie the heartless , lying mouths
Reclining on the sands by the sea
What for shall my lifetime be
For my faith in fellowmen is wee
Yet then in each day of wake
I spend praying my heart out to thee
If so is the plight, then I wish to see
A flaming sword on swift wings thrust at me
Ending my longing and casting me to dust
Cure my will to breathe, put me to sleep
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