Age after age called have I;
You heard not my story.
Having been far aside,
You did not divine my grief.
Dismayed by thunder, I have called;
In gentle winds, a-singing I have gone.
Like ocean's roar, with heart and mind,
In vain have I kept summoning.
A belching crater alike
Or like a bee's humming mild,
With a storm's unending cry,
I've wanted to clarify my agony.
By looking toward the mental sky
With a night-jasmine wreath of mind,
By means of hiding my desires,
I've called, and silence You have breached.
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Thursday, August 22, 2024
How to succeed
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By thinking less of me and more of Thee, no more a beggar will I be.
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