All the Lost People

All the magic boxes hold surprises never seen
What do they need? Raze the tower and plant the seed, mm

All the little stories are melted into one
What have they done? Followed the wind, stared at the sun

All the lost people searching for their lord
What can they see with their hand on the sword at the foot of the tree? Mm

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All the lonely people staring at the sun, blinded and done like the evening to come. As lonely planets they have spun mm