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In the vast expanse of life's keen sweep, Where echoes of dreams and whispers keep, A soul may wander, a heart may weep, In the labyrinth where shadows creep. Eyes wide open yet blind to see, Guiding stars drowned in deep ennui, Not a mere sprite in the ancient tree, But a lost traveler, as thou and me. Each step taken, yet miles to tread, A path unknown, by fate we're led, Our compass, the words unsaid, We find ourselves lost instead. Yet in our hearts, lies a quiet glow, A spark in the dark, a subtle show, No matter where wild winds blow, That light within will ceaseless flow. For though lost we may sometimes be, In this grand tapestry of mystery, Every twist, turn, and reverie, Shapes our own unique history. So let not the feeling of being lost, Be a stormy sea, to be crossed. But rather a journey, at no high cost, For to find oneself, first, we must be lost.
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