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The barricades lay outside our content

and all the restless harrowing detail

of innocence was washed clean

by the blood of their falling.

We never chose innocence.

We never sought it out.

It is the consequence of barricades.

The deluge reveals buried treasure

sparkling in the new moon

of the Restoration.

The eyes blink and are bold

with newborn sight

and tales are told

of Lost and Found delight.