Lay to waste your ill-worn gloves
Remove the yellowed skin of ages
Brush through the thick waters of grief
And emerge with the fire of the river.
Bare your feet with imperfections
For holy are the sinful humble
Cast your pearls among them
And in return receive nakedness.
And whilst the misty waters blow
A cleansing of the inside begins
As man loses his nothingness
And begins to find himself beneath it.
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