| My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hues.
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| An ever lasting vision of the ever changing views.
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| A wondrous world of magic in bits of blue and gold
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| A tapestry to feel and see impossible to hold
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| Once amid the soft silver sadness in the sky
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| There came a man of fortune, just a drifter passing by.
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| He wore a torn and tattered cloth around his leathered hide
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| And a coat of many colors, yellow green on either side
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| He moved with some uncertainty as if he didn’t know
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| Once he reached for something golden hanging from a tree
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| And his hand cam down empty.
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| Soon within my tapestry along the rutted road
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| He sat down on a river rock and he turned into a toad
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| It seems as if he’d fallen into someones mistic spell
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| And I wept to see him suffer tho I did not know him well
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| As I watched in sorrow there suddenly appeared
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| a figure grey and ghostly beneath the flowing beard
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| In times of deepest darkness I’ve seen him dressed in black
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| Now my tapestry’s unraveling he’s come to take me back |