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A solemn heart, it seems, beset with grief for things it can not touch sings silent songs of longing for a warmth to set it free..
A quiet soul, as patient as the moons caressing gaze upon the earth, seeks refuge in the trusting light of hope and aching curiosity from which that heart burns so bright..
And tomorrow seems like but a dream, the answers to urges consumed by festering desire locked away behind a wall of doubt; and the courage to know bound by neglect, wreaking havoc on the mind
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