So long that I am turned away from light,
I see a spectre, my own shadow -
My darkness, lying beside something bright,
Like a gloomy, veiled widow.
I turn to the light, my shadow takes flight,
I face the source of my eternal glow.
The shadow exists, but is out of sight,
And stretched ahead of me is a divine meadow.
I turn my sight away from that source,
Shadowy spectres still outline my course,
But when I fix my gaze upon what is right,
Undeterred by shadows, I see light.
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