Where should I fathom myself,Upon the furthest glacier that remains stagnant,To the most nurturing of moons?Blessed beauty, you’ve seen me,And my fingers are broken.And you’ve seen me, too,With eyes that are swollen and red.I’ve wept the nights away. I’ve also felt strength alike a god,And you’ve seen that, too.I’ve died repeatedly,For what I believe, truthfully.The

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