letra de the prodigal son - naedr
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“there he comes forth, returns;
the son once lost is found.”
how deep the knife that twists through living’s ceaseless churn
the great unyielding subservience wrought its ill return
abandoned now, your other son, the labour in the field
forgotten all the years of toil, in deference to you
how much does mercy weigh, in measures of the soul?
and how long can we stay, in containment’s lost control?
“come, rejoice, the feast awaits.”
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