Along the Bayou, Part 3 of 3

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And over and under the waves we roll,

Waiting for that moment to escape that dark hole,

 

Till at last upon the shore we arrive,

Still swaying with the ebbing tide,

Then through the cracks the sun speaks soft and warm,

And no longer do we fill forlorn,

 

And sometimes upon that shore we find,

That one thing for which our heart did cry,

In song and light its presence will be,

And fragile as kite’s tail flying in a blue clouded sea,

 

But as came it will pass on by,

Unless with our voice we try,

To break that veil so crystal so pure,

Creating a trail that may lead pass allure

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