the ruddy glow of the old-fashioned lamp
a shadow though the jalousies a cry
as potoo grasps her prey this is the high
and reverent worship which we must stamp
upon each soul even as tired feet tramp
uphill again past every staring eye
through the long shades without a single sigh
within your thought you deem this place a camp
in the far distance something you can't see
will draw you onward fill your mind with fire
of what you do not know but want to find
past this last valley there's an open sea
and beyond that all that you could desire
the price is that you leave your heart behind
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