LYRIC

Long low bell
Song I hear
Far or near
I cannot tell

The chime rings true
In careful arcs
The quarter marks
To man are due

For nowhere lies a creature dear
Who holds the fear of fleeting time

But trembling man
In soil and soot
Wears hard soled boots
And weary hands

Such as mine
Own restless limbs
That shake off sleep
In desperate time

So here I lay as minutes pass slow
Ponder past transgressions made

In hopes that I
Might repair
To what was there
Before a mind

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