How tall have you grown, dearest?
From the distances that were borrowed,
From the pride that you have swallowed.
Has it been as beautiful as you have dreamt it to be?
Have you remained modest in the fight for liberty?
How worn are you feet, dearest?
Have they crossed these pebbled roads, blistered?
Climbed wondrous mountains, festered
Only to stumble upon the wrath of the Gods of hell?
Selling yourself short of all that is left to sell?
If every answer in life is a must to seek,
Then I'm afraid, my dear, that the task is bleak
If you haven't got any reason to let hope begin,
Listen to the weaving song from the voices within.
Softly now my heart,
Gently lay to rest
Let it be tomorrow's part
For you to do your best.
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