In Pieces My Soul Is Torn

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In pieces my soul is torn,
But I have no time to mourn,
Time is passing and passing on,
Life’s vehicle is buzzing its horn,
Polluted soul and body deserve not,
To face the one who lives in heart,
Hatred,malice,envy and lies,
on my body like buboes rise,
Would that I were a baby on my death,
With a pure heart and sacred breath !

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