Born of Fire
by William Black

In the Night.

With Golden Light.

All the drose,
Consumed in me,
All the Lost,
To be set free.

To him who has,
will more be given.
To him who has not,
From him will be taken.

Where I stand now,
I know not how.
All is drose,
All is lost.

But from the Fire,
Is born anew.
A creature beloved,
To stand by you.

 William Black

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