How strange the lands become

How dark our troubled season
of people swinging from charity

How infected our inner sanctum
of a right to rip a natural life

How dull the hue of men
to fear to play in the sun

How foggy the morning air
of deadly mirages

How quick the tide can change
washing decency clean

How fast we overlook
our fears and strife

How slow Serenity may come
but only through vigilance

How decency may arrive
And together in songs

How seasons may change
they will change again
in form

How dark the days maybe
they will swing back
into Charity

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