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Blind to the quick, will a sitting promise make a move for it? |
| bona fide the scent of a candle in love with a passing you compare of us, the share of destiny, nigh the salt of the earth which we know to be, a christened could maybe, or by the sanity of having the walls of chance and the dim nothings which come, to yearn is an our of solutions in gray, that have the sense to seek loving in the tips of toes and the mildness of a brow, long before a kiss is to earn shame dwells to nothing for a moment, and then comes back to this many ways with a name for each, but in the silence we share the passion of dissuasion has a hand that can, the poignancy of legends to wish by the by, and seemly to sigh's, the arrogancy of youth is but a dream, we make to fair regard and in the end realization of a knowing, notting, need regret for the surrounding muse of each, to his or her, assumption in old the way to a heart of commonness and the perfunctory work of glee, is me the compassion of sense for a changing hand, in the myth's and history's of yet were, the sight of know... |