if thou be that swan,
who hath flown over
deserts, mountains,
and acres of lands,
make me your words,
and tell me to write
music as bright
as the one which
can only preach
peace, love and
benevolence,
And I know
It can never be so
For a mortal like me,
Ever a thing easy,
but then
only a poet
can claim
immortality,
for even if he dies
his words will fly,
if thou be that swan
make me a song,
a song that can fill
hearts with air,
veins with blood,
souls with Love.
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