Rising smoke from ashes between my lips;
disappears into a naked sky.
Such warmth from an impervious beginning
relinquishes my soul to Hathor.
Protect me from those whose freedom
is held by unbreakable hands of hatred.
If you shall rise before the sun,
warn me of the imminent flood
that drowns those with false anticipations.
Although, I too am like the rest,
I am aware of such clever deceit.
Allow me to hide within the trees
that protects the ones who are not coned
by paintings of bare lands and unfinished portraits.
I have my things prepared
and I want to be ready.
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