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broken andtorn,although damaged,sheapologises.
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if you look into my eyes, you'll find it's where my demons hide...
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theyliketosaythe scratchesand cracks,on a cello give birth to character.but there exists nocharacter,in thecello of my heart,frayed strings,broken bri..
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It all started with an interest.Then there was the training, hours and hours and hours spent,under the supervision of a dictator, restricting and cont..
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would it have been better if i were a tyrant?ruling with an iron hand,complete with armies that marched under my banner,and puppet councils that obeye..
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the sun’s raysilluminate,every single featureof your beautiful face.raven hair,skin of pearl,dirt coloured gatesto your soul,even that molebesid..
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It felt like a special summer. Those trees that lined the banks of the river we crossed everyday on the way to school were flowering in a burst of pin..
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