Pride
If pride is a beast of fleeting failure,
Tell me, where does lie pathetic prayer.
Unanswered by the winds of change,
On a cool dry autumn day,
Let it sink, slow then quick,
Making me a little sick,
Then what remains shall sourly stay.
Pride
If pride is a beast of fleeting failure,
Tell me, where does lie pathetic prayer.
Unanswered by the winds of change,
On a cool dry autumn day,
Let it sink, slow then quick,
Making me a little sick,
Then what remains shall sourly stay.
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