In a place where a shade's own shadow turns the round
A man scratched deeply awaits, how profound
A being who is less themselves and more another comes to clear
in the willow of a entryway that will draw him near
the man is metal and his heart is white
The parasite, whatever is left of, knows the circumstance is right
They're meant for each other for the universe knows the law of equality true
It is why the place with such lonesome shadows has only so few
Those whom shift from above with hearts that grow cold
try forever detaching the two, this arrangement is old
The willows will bend and the place will break
and forever again will the two come and take
of time and one another as the dealing demands again
Equality only for them, and only them then
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