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The Third Body by M G Cannella

Pass into time
Oh child of mine
A creation born of old

Sharpened lines
And convex minds
A puzzle to unfold

Read my thoughts
I send them forth
To guard the soul within

A living thing
That needs to breathe
And sometimes shed its skin

A changing cycle
Ever on,
It echoes, underground

And when you search
To find my child
The echoes will be found