Orphans Of The Soul

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Now and then, I catch glimpses of the orphans in the corridor of my mind
Their dwelling place is a kingdom without frontiers
They lie there feeding me myriads of theories
They die there reincarnating themselves in sparks of faith
Out of loneliness, these orphans created us
And out of our necessities we created angels above us
Love and hate are but the two orphans of the soul

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