From the shadows that are birthed from the flames that are birthed from the torches that are birthed from the thoughts that are birthed by pain wafts a strong smell of discarded dreams.
Into the tears that are wrought from the rivers that are wrought from the passes that are wrought from the needs that are wrought by desire works a harsh echo of beggared hopes.
Out of the sparks that are learned from the lights that are learned from the suns that are learned from the loves that are learned by my fire springs the laughter of becoming me.
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