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Each day creates my Universe
On my battlefield of thoughts.
It be a blessing or a curse:
All effect is born from cause.

Day shall follow after Night
Until I am Eternal Light.
Past will vanish into Space
Before I am infernal Grace.

What chance shows to my fate:
All that I loathe and hate,
Gets cradled by my fear;
A story noone likes to hear.

Where does it come from, may I ask?
Who is responsible for this task?
What of my suspicion, my unrest?
What force creates our Holy Quest?

Afraid to be alone and dead,
Reality explodes in my own head.
Cut off from Love and shining stars,
My perception conjures stifling bars.

Because I think therefore create,
If I can feel it comes alive.
But when I pass the final gate
Thus will end the ancient strive.