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THE DEEP CRY UNTO THE DEEPFOR I CRY OUT UNTO THEE, BUT THOU ARE SLEEP. AS A BRANCH THAT IS DEAD, NO LEAVES TO BE SHED. LIKE UNTO A BODY WITHOUT THE HEAD, ITS MAIN SOURCE TO PRODUCE THE WHOLE YOU IS UNABLE TO FUNCTION, IT HAS NO UNCTION." AWAKE FROM THY SLEEP. I, THE DEEP CALL UNTO THEE. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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