For the dim regions whence my fathers came. My spirit, bondaged by the body, longs. Words felt, but never heard, my lips would frame; my soul would sing, forgotten, jungle songs. I would go back to the darkness and to peace, but the great western world holds me in fee, and I may never hope for full release, while to its alien gods, I bend my knee. Something in me is lost, forever, lost….
— Feb 24, 2024 11:50AM
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