As my eyes adjust, darkness shrouds what may have been as the ocean would shift thy sand. I beckon for one's touch as a sickly song began what not leaveth my sorry soul, which could only break this land as I beg for you to take my hand.
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As my eyes adjust, darkness shrouds what may have been as the ocean would shift thy sand. I beckon for one's touch as a sickly song began what not leaveth my sorry soul, which could only break this land as I beg for you to take my hand.