I
Hear our Melody,
Masking the fugue
Of Justifying to Memory,
The cold beneath the tragedy
A blade counting country,
Back from three
Coming after,
Me.
I
Hear our Melody,
Masking the fugue
Of Justifying to Memory,
The cold beneath the tragedy
A blade counting country,
Back from three
Coming after,
Me.
Nice written work!
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Thank you!
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So welcome!
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