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Beyond the shadows of the mountains,
within the grasp of the forest trees,
outside all that we know exists,
lies a simple rolling expanse of grass,
beyond the shadows of the oven,
within the grasp of a kitchen glove,
outside all that is plain and simple,
lies a delicate delicious almond cake,
no larger than a [suburban] neighbourhood,
[yet] holding more than it possibly could,
I come here on the days that are bright,
when the sun shines so beautifully 'round,
for I have no need to be here other times,
in the times of clouds and blasting rains,
for that is when my life is reflected,
appopriately in this mortal existence,
but when the sun shines and the bird does sing to me,
I come to this meadow as though beckoned,
beckoned by the song that calls out my name all the time,
maybe it should [finally] welcome me home,
[to] take from me my life and let me pass,
Please, don't let me suffer longer,
guide me to a meadow to die in,
Please, I beseech you to rid me of the pain,
lay me under a golden sky of death.
pleasant peaceful winds here grace my skin,
caressing me softly taunting my very being,
such loveless beauty that dances about me,
void of emotion this world still stirs on,
tantalizing the weak and punishing the strong,
extruding from nothing hollow riches,
collapsing our lungs and drugging our mind,
twisting our thoughts and molding our sight,
[whispering to our ears and blistering our tongues,]
I depart one more time down the rough trail,
winding up precariously through the mountain path,
dragging behind the souls of all those who have follow,
living vicariously through me as they have,
now they have no choice as they will see my end,
emerging from ancient forests into calm grasses,
looming above is the burning-stake of the [sun],
to which I've been tied so far much too long,
I find there is no need to say goodbye anymore,
I fall to the ground as another amongst the lull,
gazing upwards towards the empyrean I lament,
there shall be no reprieve for my suffering,
cursed be the celestial beings above me,
requesting only for the [simple] pleasure of death,
I will not be a felo-de-se [for their] dissipation,
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