Something stirs yet not yet awakens
A great ripping of shredding reproach
Evolutionary dawn in the light of morning
But that I had wings
Something churns yet not yet heaves
A grand tumult of agitating disorder
Transformative revolution in the dark soul
But that I had wings
Something embeds yet not yet roots
An immense upheaval of placated ease
An altering pandemonium of brilliant radiance
But that I had wings
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