With age and time, one believes strength ebbs.
The stones weather, the trees grow and split.
Through the passage of time, our hopes can fade away.
But that passage breed strength.
Reserves, once hollow, fill with the passage of each season.
The tenuous connection at birth becomes firm.
We see things, we know things
Where once we knew only fear and doubt.
We grow powerful within our own skin.
For truth, the mad rush of youth is gone
And the sunset is closer than the dawn.
But the sweetness of this strength is strong.
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