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There is something beautiful within this dry famished hollow world.
No rust can pollute and no flame can diminish.
It is not gem or riches.
Not even the capabilities and profound talents of humans can uncover her secret.
It is the raw and untouched brilliance that is deeply seated in her womb. Protected and cradled.
Nurtured to give life and restore life.
It is her quietly bruised heart that no one can touch.
The bright, burning and flowing blood that sustains her unworthy descendants.
Arms that envelope her children with tears that vanish as quickly as it came.
She that sleeps within the fire, keeping it ablaze so that no darkness can reach it.
She that is constantly battered and blamed for the consequences of our mistakes.

It is her being that no one can deny.
It is her that first weep when we cry.
It is her that battles when all we could do is cower and hide.

She of nature.
Broken and tainted.
Still standing and waiting.
Her wonders unfailing.

She,
The mother of us all. 

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