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If ever we allowOur hope-dream-flame
To be extinguished,
Death will immediately come,
Smiling and dancing,
To strangle us
With death-shackles.
Sri Chinmoy, Seventy-Seven Thousand Service-Trees, part 16, Agni Press, 1999
Our hope-dream-flame
To be extinguished,
Death will immediately come,
Smiling and dancing,
To strangle us
With death-shackles.
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