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I CRAWL
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I'm crying and fighting for freedom.
I crawl into thy heart, shall I scream and deny thee not, hath plucked from bowers that lent their morning bloom on each corner, descended into their cups around his crown upon thy brightest star or
will I
Crawl into my sleeping heart whose burning light comes from above descends; in to existence with blossoms honey-sweet rhymes; for thy great gift perhaps divinely bright, death of silent thunder, that no one man seeks to see?
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Jb1writes