And hit the ground
I have no face today
The fog is dense
Makes little sense
There'll be no sun this day
From native lamina
To lustrous hues
We retreat to our origins
Suspended for a time
I feel like you my friend today
Stripped of color and splendor
Bathed in condensed vapor
Raw to the root
Sheath misplaced
Devoid of customary cover
I have no face today
-RS � 1999
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