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The Guard
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Find the guard If only she will show her teeth To their growl To their roar To her charge She flies to what’s become of me Breathe deep With my bronze chest Through my iron veil I bid no relief Pray you find her wings I am at her feet She is my guard The candle to my cheek She flies to me With her golden locks And a sharpened sword she’ll never sheathe But we are face-down And we still refuse to show our teeth And she still returns to me Can I bury my blade as deep as she?


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