The sun triumphs his place at peaking sign
As eyeing men, disgorged from Night's behind,
Ascend from earthly binds restored to find
There's work yet still to handle deeds unkind.
Upright and bright, the serving soul does know
That time is ink arun against the thought
Of olden plans unbuilt, resulting woe,
And 'gainst the truth unseen 'cause it's unwrought.
Unleash yourself from pain's serpentile lies,
Escape the web of wicked whys that weigh
Us down in dark disguise without allies
To catch us weak with no retreat as prey.
My fellow friend in flesh beset by vice,
Always afford the cost of being nice.
-MMF
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