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In Fates Hands
in my sorrow
i wait for the morrow
in the hands of fate
through silence i wait
to God i plea
that i could see
that girl again
to be her man
the rain still falls
to her i call
fate begins to speak
he calls me weak
my hope is lost
my soul's the cost
here i lie
and here i'll die...
poem
by
Sam Cole
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