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Bota
  .
Too long now
Have I wandered
From the smoke
The fumes of war,
Where dead men dare
To roam the dark
In the valley of despair. 
Cracked and dry am I
Wine seeping out
Precious left to share,
Though far from fresh
From battles for souls
May I be filled again,
Pour Your Spirit
In my holes.
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by J. Alan R.

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