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my body wears a pattern of scars as intricate as expensive lace. my body is branded by beautiful tattoos of none other than that of pain. my body refuses to be physically marked
I hear wolves howling in the distance, I see nothing, I hear the hooting of the night owl, I see nothing, I hear the trickling of the creek,
Pardon me old friend but I fear the end Is it near or far drown out I do not know
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