who has no roots in the soul root
turns gaze deep inside.
sees the center
only those at the margin and
walking disconsolately on the edge of the void.
Elsewhere we turn
the face but can not escape the dark
privilege of clairvoyance.
canter
dreams in my mind at night.
are the cry and smile.
suffer the desolation of the world, which runs through me,
and me in it,
powerless.
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