I will lose my way
walking a far-off track
after an unseen spirit
fickle as the breeze
I will be blind
shut behind my eyelids
hunting it in the dark
the dusk will come
my feet will be on the gravel
as I stand under a streetlight
there will be sun on my hair
under the banking clouds
and I will haunt the day's hours
alive to be living
in another place
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