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On the edge again
The valley
Bathed in gold
The steepening hill hidden
By silver mist
The road littered
With the jetsam of the moor
And little torrents flow
The sky fell last night
And has left us bathed
in rainwashed rubble
Each shining pebble
It's own little beauty
Ah, the Raven knows about love
And the turning of the wheel
High above he whispers
On the misty edge
Then flies with me
Towards the golden morning
As I fly across the threshold
Into light.

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