The Ballad of the Books

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So, I see that you are sad
Vile human morals are what drives you so mad.
Sickened by it, most of us are, it is only trivial,
but you will endure, your tale will be of survival.
Days are no longer about winning no glory
Hearts are broken and veins are eerie.

Every lane you walk will have a crack,
for we all have fortitude and fault
but humanity is fabricated in a way that sees only black.
Imperfection is malignant, it spreads like a disease,
they will call you names and make sure you hear it.
“You will never reach the stars this way,” they shout,
their judgment is not where you stand so just get out.
Opinions do not mold you, you are not their clay,
one tiny step forward and you will reach the stars this way.

So I can see that you have forgotten to shine.
mutilated are those feet that once walked on cloud nine.
Darkness has swallowed the cosmos, the apocalypse has begun.
Smile not because you can,
but because your beam will become the new sun.
Your endurance is a roller-coaster that only goes down,
relinquished you stand, there is no one around.
You did not ask for much, just one faithful hand.
Drained you are and forsaken are the streets,
aspire to stand with the crippled bone anyway,
for no other people will be crutches your broken feet.

Bless those mortals, beaten, exhausted and flawed.
This is for the rebels, misshapes, awkward and odds.
Let me mask you in my wing, prevail you to the land unknown
This inure influence will never leave you,
no longer in extinction, you will have to roam.
You will be shielded, you will be trained
embrace this grasp and I will call you my friend.
So I can see that you are alone,
Decipher my force and I will build you a home.

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