Here I stand, by the daunting precipice;
Thoughts to flee, a mounting artifice;
Thoughts to climb, a crumbling edifice;
Deep within me, a haunting orifice.
Fret not, dear soul. There is much left in this heart.
Thoughts to flee, a mounting artifice;
Thoughts to climb, a crumbling edifice;
Deep within me, a haunting orifice.
Fret not, dear soul. There is much left in this heart.
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