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Only when a lion is poked and prodded does it turn and roar. Only when a whisper is spat on and silenced does it turn into a scream. Only when a life is faced with death does it become meaningful.
Did frost bite me?
A gaping hole so void, and yet prominent. It's shell so spherical, as it wraps about its brittle self, in an unctuous curvature. A ring containing a nearly inconceivable number of atoms
Encircled by an icy perfection desiring spring to rise and thaw yearning strictly buckled down our passions mustn’t gain control
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