Walking alone in amber light,A few dry autumn leaves left clinging to bare trees.
Lovely smell of gentle decay,
Sifting through the past,
Wishing for what might have been.
A taste of fear and ashes.
Yet I bear His mark;
I am His own.
I believe in endings;
He taught me to believe in beginnings.
I believe in darkness;
He showed me light.
I am chilled,
Still, I stumble toward the fire.
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