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Friday, August 19, 2005


   This is my dream

The fields of Golden corn

In the fields, where light and yellow wheat blooms
I lay there in peace, listening to idle chatter of wind sweeped corns
I aim no title for my name, and I am gently covered by the silk winds
May my life be at still, so this haven can bound my dreams
Nothing on earth can seem so dark
And nothing of human can seem so light
Be at peace with The Creation of life
So may fields of lands cry of happiness and trumph
Be at peace and lay at cross
There is only a gentle wisp of hope that dawns here
Nor darkness can bound the faith of one will
The destiny of the lands are sealed
And so must we find our being of this life
As the light slowly dims like a candle spirit
Hope, faith and will,
they are the keys, the paths of the land.

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