Once a pauper i was made a prince when a light shone down on my face. That light shone once yet it blinked off but i stil remember the tingle of it on my skin. The memory that brings it back to me almost does justice to its affect. As i turn contemplative with the cycle of the moon i once again knew that my madness was blooming anew. But that doesnt matter. Im on to a silver platter for thats all v recieve unto us by Him. Only matter is to look only at our platter. The trouble only starts when u start comparing
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