I have taken another day.
This lingering suits me
And wears on me.
When the passage of days
Will have worn me away,
Where will I wander? What ghost,
Or prophecy, will be my host?
In these thoughts there is no profit,
Whether they be spoken or unspoken;
Only my surroundings have a voice
To call me such a name,
Though from day to day,
It is never the same.
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