reaching hands- cirkling down i see it twist to nothing torn from what it meant, cou from extence...my fingers bleed, but reaching hands are not w eak the light the tonce burned so bright, has now been cast a dismal grey. fighting to keep the voice alive, i cannot left it end this way...i`m held- in the arms of the few! i walk in a line with the skared, never breaking my vow. i swear to you. A rise of commitment strong, a vision to wich it belongs. purty of the mind and body, to keep the resistance moving on ...
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