I am the branch that broke the rainbow,
I am the grass that choked the sky,
I am the sea without its thunder,
and in that breeze I've learned to fly,
I am the road that leads to laughter,
I am the nod that tells no lie,
I am the turning of the pages,
and in its words I make you cry.
I am the bread that found its father,
I am the birds of whom they seek,
I am the sorrow in the banquet,
and underneath I hear them speak.
I am the raven on the Tower,
I am the shape that loses stride,
I am the worker of the iron,
for of its strength I'm opened wide.
I am the glass without its wine,
I am the bull of open plains,
I am the spear that split the horseman,
and now I conquer with its reigns.
I am the weeping of the lonely,
I am the tender of the moss,
I am the follower of agony,
for now I see the Cross.
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