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How fragile are my hands? Even a speck of dust could sabotage them. Yet alone you left them stranded on a desert, Let the Sun, grimly cremate them.
How fragile are my hands? Even a gallon of water could shudder them. Yet you wrecked them in a hefty storm, Let alone the lighting scorch them.
How fragile are my hands? Even the tip of a leaf could cleave them. Yet alone you left them on a noxious battlefield, Let them fight a war you never won.
