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I was born in a dream, a recurring nightmare, a slow song of darkness, where my guns had no power & money changed & lost its value as I tried to buy food with it. Invisible voices mocked me, like the ghosts of unseen lives, easing my spirit into submissiveness, until sleep. The authentic mood, the scenery, the landscape, familiar people with compassion in their hearts, & on their lips. A white horse, alone. A graveyard & a greyed church. Romance. Death of ignorance. Deliverance & Holy Reverance. . |
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