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  • Some say your name is Imatra.
    They also claim your welcoming hands will soften my fall.
    Come instead and nestle in my shredded heart where you could blossom.
    I am too old to die.
    Be born again in the kiln where my pain is tempered so my hopes can be rekindled.
    Only in the glare of dawn will I dare to look in your face.
    Come gentle God I will show you the way.
    The way which leads back to where I am already waiting for you.
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