If I'd fit on the windowsill
I'd plant myself in your direction
I would use the sun's energy
To make this place your destination
How dare I hate this space I occupy
I'm left to my devices
Turning to the light
I'm waiting for the cue
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To beckon to the shoot
And break the crust upon the soil
Lack of light the iris expands
My eyes absorb a power coming
From beyond my dim room
In my den amber and damp
As if lit up by faith alone
I've been more faithful than you know
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