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The ones you loved,
they love you still,
and always, always will.
The parent who almost never cared,
friends, lovers blind to a soul you bared,
and God we place too far to feel…
“They” always, always will.

The full moon speaks:
“My” light seems bright;
I’m naught without our Sun.
And he, in turn, a mortal star,
just borrows from our Source not far.
Eternal Presence through us.
Not many. Only One.

Breathe now. Just breathe.
One system, all our lungs.
Worship no one.
Only our One.
Only our One.

Such deep devotion
to our One.