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There I was, caught in labyrinth. Time & time again I found myself lost. Following Cupid's arrow. Round & round I turned. Still I was a fool to not admit my denial. Chasing an arrow not meant for me.
Quickly I flew across the river the grab the arrow shot from my quiver   I wished my hide were like this stone  wich stopped the arrow quickly thrown   for tears do little to help with aim
I pick it up And turn it over It balances perfectly in my hand No chips No dents It's ready to use My feet on the line My arrows in the quiver Ready to shoot
My heart is a lonely hunter. My arrow drawn, ready to strike, Tears toward the target, bringing it to life.    A faint piano begins easing through the silence.
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