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“Life for life,” the Prophet says, The fulness of days shall come and the reapers reap. The white blade seethes like a wind, and we Tremble at death in the blade’s cold kiss. Distant, infinite blue From East to West, from South to North, Bends over us. We, called forth Up from the heart of the earth, Mother that gave us birth, Lie on her heart again. Sun and dew, Wind and rain, Pass over us.