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I'm living in a castle made of sand. It looks to be made of some hearty stone, But I'm good at finding truth. Sometimes I pluck it out of ears, like a magician's coin. Truth is a bit more expensive.
OutsideThe entirety of my resolve runs with the river of tears thatTrickle, thenAfter a brief moment of suspenseBreak free, carvingCruel lines down my ravaged cheeks, a howling flood letLoose. My eyes are