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When Prudence called

I did not listen

But blindly blundered on,

Through wave and storm

And good intentions

Alone to sing my song.

 

To Serenity’s words

I paid no heed

But roared with temper loud,

To rise above

The dead-pan plain

Proclaim my presence proud.

 

At Hope’s last cry

I turned my back

To stride out on my own,

A hermits’ cause

My home to find

A desert overgrown.

 

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