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Dance of Ghede

Fingers touch the mirror,
something breaths inside.
Picture becomes clearer,
and the visions start to fly.

Dancing round a circle,
to the echo of a drum.
Spirits rise within me,
speaking in their tongue.

I call upon the baron,
please move me in my dance.
Guide me in the ritual,
to celebrate the dead.

Figures in the mirror,
casting the divine.
Voices from the dark land,
speaking me this rhyme.

Off in the distance,
others join our dance.
Visions fly around us,
witnessing our chants.

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