Identity 4 : Marks

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Marks

You have seen so many lands
And trod on many stars --
Always bitten, forever shy;
The road has left its marks.

Your father's cuff-links, stained with ink;
Your mother's burning heart
Have made you, destiny's own child,
Your people's work of art.

Marbled glass in dreamlike hues
Hit the ground and squeal;
But, in the cloud of holy smoke,
The Chosen One is still.
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