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May 2013
some, the strongest most compassionate of heart the wild of heart the free of heart suffer in silence pain in their eyes, the wise may notice the laughter is gone the wry smile from their lips no longer tender too cold to kiss is gone, beaten broken the healer the banshee the wounded spirit, all that remains is the blood..
Joanne Fuda
Written by
Joanne Fuda  F
(F)   
979
   JM
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