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First Born

*Sunrise towards my mental reflection; Contemplating where my journey is directed. Lying in the sweat of broken slumber; The days are short and unevenly numbered. Living in the darkness; dying in the light. Silenced in the morning; tormented in the night. Tested by devils and beaten by saints; Waiting for the promise of mercy and grace.*
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Written by
david-w-jones
American
Published
Jan 23, 2014
Lines·Words
8·56
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