I apologize,
My fragile flower,
For the battles that are to come.
The campaigns
have been many.
Not all have been won.
The dredge filled bags
I've brought here.
Will bite of enemies teeth.
The sinful wreathe
I've wrought here,
Will bear heavy weight and grief.
But know that Father
will hold us close
against my bleeding heart.
He will show us
how to light the darkness
and give us a restart.
Cover my weeping fist
with your lovely,
with your light-filled hand.
And 'tween the three of us,
Father, you, and I,
We'll rebirth the land.
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