There are days when grace feels fleeting
Fading like the last rays of the dying day
Stolen by some heir of Prometheus
A strange fire bestowed beyond my grasp
And even the act of reaching
Is doomed by the shadows of a past
Somewhere in the distance
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Like the times between testaments
Balanced between hope and despair
The long night feels like a vigil
And even the act of remembrance
Is thrown like a slingshot prayer toward a heaven
Somewhere in the distance