the start may finish the end

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wandering the words of paths

pathetically as she was

washing her hands; bloodridden

ridding her mind of her pasts

pastor said it shan't go on like such

succeeding but clean she was not

nothing that anyone foresaw

sown on she had her longingness

nestling deep in her heart's side

siding with them she encountered

councils of men that had yet to

toy with her truth that lay within

withering she exists there; wanton

wandering she now stay, lovingless

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