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There was a looming sadness cast over the age of men, a shadow of the greatness to come.
Prescribed with sentience, a mind is furled. The node, like synapse, encased from Deep Blue, Employs emotion, though no form is curled. On flesh, a chain of plugs will here subdue.
I love The way you are. Weak and Incomplete and Powerful all the same. Your dullness makes you Bright. And your brightness lights up the dreariness Of any night sky.
In pain and in Power There lies a common thread . . . The struggles that it took to get there . . . The testimony of those who bled In one way or another. That is one lesson
I am So Fly That Butterflies will rest In the palms of my hand And remember God I am So Fly That Rainbows fall from the