Faith

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I broke the silence from myself, the Amish in me dead.
The Pilgrim in me wanders about wearing scarlet red.
The Dreamer dreams in liquid rain while the Mocker makes his jest;
The Truth is owned by men of cloth and only Fools can rest.
Hope is on the window sill and wants to dance with Fate,
Faith treasures Time and Time will always wait.
Desire walks inside the heart: Time, Faith and Hope, do rush,
That Truth will bring the Pilgrim home to a Foolish Amish blush.

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