Drifting softly behind the dawn
Comes the promise of redemption.
Comes the promise of redemption.
I turn from the open gate
And return to my still
Slumbering garden.
And return to my still
Slumbering garden.
The colours faded long ago,
Wind and rain conspiring
To wash them away.
Wind and rain conspiring
To wash them away.
There is so little left,
Especially when I close my eyes.
Especially when I close my eyes.
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