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Introspectre

Omen

In bitter longing... warmth reels back in touching cold solitude. This emptiness runs deep. Though the echoes bring fear to happy minds, may hope sing louder. In the night- let the echoes of light being us together in wonder. A choir of ancient voices in the sky; we are as we think. Alone in sacred silence. Divided only be hesitation.

I am 21 years or older.