All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crown less again shall be king.
- - - - -
But some who wander ARE lost. Of course you never hear about them. Or rather, you never hear FROM them.
Because they are wandering.
And lost.
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