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Alas! Sorrow is in my sight as the moon, early in the night has upturned my precious rose all set in a flourishing pose. Eyes can only watch weep as sands of time slowly sweep the squirreled few memories amongst fields of red poppies. I come to touch this pale fragility but the gusty winds of my breath have blown this priceless piece into stockpiles of lifeless debris. I truly feel the oscillating coldness dampen any warmth from the sun when there is not my diamond rose to illuminate and start my day. |
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