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| Topic: Worth it | |
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My souls grow thin
Fully worn too But my feet will carry Me and get me through On my hands I'll crawl With scabbed knees I will find you Like a summer breeze |
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I lift you up.
No soul or soles shall be impoverished with me. Die into me, as I die into you. May our flames be twin, entwined threefold. May our journey be soft, sure as moccasins hunting. Our direction? A smile upon the aged lips of Wisdom calling her children home to feast. |
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