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Feb 2014
Another day my dear,
he shouts with the volume of a whisper.
Pre-destined love
designed to be apart
She is pale beauty designed to be gazed upon
Not knowing her allure.
He is blinding to the eyes.
Nevertheless he loves.
For the sun loved the moon so much
he would die every night to let her live.
Another night my dear,
he shouts with the volume of a whisper.
Aubrey Valdez
Written by
Aubrey Valdez
267
   Lillian Harris
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