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Here is to the women who hurt. How their pain never told though their stories ever sold, intuitively resistant and bold.
Possession of dualistic spirit. A split of who you were before, and after. Before, smiles crept across your face Simply for the fact that there did not have to be a “good enough” reason For a genuine grin.
The wrath of wind, it comes and goes, The fear of men, no longer blows, The hunger of fire, it does devour, But all who give in, it will sour, The strength of water, cannot be matched,
Upon this stormy sea I sail, Upon the waves I ride. Beware, beware the siren's wail, Beware the coming tide. Your pain it will tenfold increase, Your joy no more benign.