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What a beautiful weapon she is. She's the sharpest edge and the prettiest sight, The softest, sweetest bringer of night, And all with a teasing kiss. What a beautiful, beautiful weapon she is.
"There is a beast inside That controls my heart My soul is slowly dying And I need to stop the hurt This beast contols my mind Never is there peace or rest Can I get free in time?
Pretty and sweet, they singInto the night
The mind is sharp its as if it can cut through any problem any obstacle in the way having no limits. The mind is free like air and as flexible as one it sometimes roams around sometimes .
NOTE: My poem is in the image. I am traveling somewhere in this poem. If you can't figure it out, the answer will be in small print at the bottom right.