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An Exquisite Prelude

These are the poignant tales for those woeful lovers

The broken, the unnoticed, the melancholic bothers

For their hearts in a twist, and their souls in a taint

To share horrid clichés, cautioned details, hueless paint

.

These are the fairy stories for fairies with plucked wings

For the parched dry throats that still want badly to sing

For the whimsy makers wishing wells from empty stars

For dreamers chasing fast the sempiternal horizon afar

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These are the loveless legends for people with exquisite pain

Extraordinary beings who ignore colds and dance in the rain

For the clockworks, for the humans, for the beautiful monsters

A requiem, an ode to the surviving, despite their unattainable lovers.

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