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Now that the eagle has touched the ground
I find myself in this peaceful tower
Wondering, making dreams
Reading the wisdom of old

Touching God, silently
Feeling the magic that flows through this world

Throes of creation require some pain
So just a hermit I cannot remain
The world awaits things from me
A force I must be

The fires of war threaten my loved library of oak trees
Good must be saved like a seed

Philosophy, ancient summits reached in enlightened times
Where are those men in today?

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