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This disparaging Quality of my own Innocence. Has been Shrouded, Burned, Ashes scattered, Nary a Hope of Return. Though Now Mine Eyes Detect a Forward Purpose. Glimmering Whisper of Further Life Once Not Thought Possible. Once, Never a Consideration. Each day Burns With the Weary awareness of mine non-actions. Still aligning Priorities. From those Ashes, This Being Has Risen. Is Striking Back. Carving Forth. Turning Words. Into Every Lived Desire. July 6th-ish 2014
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 7:07 AM UTC
From Dust.
This disparaging Quality of my own Innocence. Has been Shrouded, Burned, Ashes scattered, Nary a Hope of Return. Though Now Mine Eyes Detect a Forward Purpose. Glimmering Whisper of Further Life Once Not Thought Possible. Once, Never a Consideration. Each day Burns With the Weary awareness of mine non-actions. Still aligning Priorities. From those Ashes, This Being Has Risen. Is Striking Back. Carving Forth. Turning Words. Into Every Lived Desire. July 6th-ish 2014
nicole-potter
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 7:07 AM UTC
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