Off at a Distance

Standing in squalor
And mis'ry and fright
Far off at a distance
Yes, long from my strife
I behold but an aura
Tears welling with hope
There's a man
Not uneasy, nor tense
But assured
His lungs exhale poise
His movement sublime
Cronus can't bleed him
His judgments too firm
Weakness he knew
Decline once his master
Before angst was slain
While surety ascended
Though distant this victor
His face is my own
Yet, rev'rence of odds
Will you free me from want?

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