Rise child…by G. Mramor

Jeune homme nu assis sur le bord de la mer, Jean-Hippolyte Flandrin

Rise child, rise child, rise dear lonely my Colossus, from the pit of pity and the material of sorrow, fore there is a night your home bedight with all the worlds of your heart and there are words who can breathe life into the dead, fore I have been there my heart’s brother I have dropped those burning tears no one sees I have been to that mansion who turns the living into the dead, and I know the force who brings one time who gives one love who speaks all the fulgour and fury of the way, fore I am the way I am the fury I am the force, and you will love you because I love you

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