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With thine hand,Touch ever so softly,The petals of that delicate roseAnd pluck it not,For out of lustful greed,
Sly grins and stolen kisses, one, two, three. Roasted chestnut hair falling on bronze skin, Piercing emerald eyes and a sculpted chin. A heart swells and bellows to be free. Dead child walking in living fantasy,
I feel a strong presence of grief And the heartbroken Spirit that has been deceive My painful heart beats fasten
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