Always we are following a light,
Always the light recedes with groping hands,
We stretch toward this glory, while the lands,
We journey through arer hidden from our sight,
Dim and mysterious, folded in the night,
We care not, all our utmost need demands,
Is but the light, the light! So still it stands,
Surely our own if we exert our might,
Fool! Never can't though grasp this fletting gleam,
Its glowing flame would die if it were caught,
Its value is that it doth always seem,
But just a little father on Distraught ,
But lighted ever onward, we are brought ,
Upon our way unknowing, in a dream.
Always the light recedes with groping hands,
We stretch toward this glory, while the lands,
We journey through arer hidden from our sight,
Dim and mysterious, folded in the night,
We care not, all our utmost need demands,
Is but the light, the light! So still it stands,
Surely our own if we exert our might,
Fool! Never can't though grasp this fletting gleam,
Its glowing flame would die if it were caught,
Its value is that it doth always seem,
But just a little father on Distraught ,
But lighted ever onward, we are brought ,
Upon our way unknowing, in a dream.
(Zurina Zakaria A123555)
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