Blind

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I wish to whisk away this blindness so that I could see what is real, so that I could feel what is near, so that I could hear that which I fear, only to find that it is not real.

I come and go through the forest of this blindness, only to find kindness, which is real.

What is fear? It is not real. What is here is only real.

Through the days and through the nights I see the light of what is real.
Blindness gone, I feel no fear, I only see what is real.

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