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"Shadows weave to no avail
Shimmering in moonlight pale.
May it be she take my hand,
Leading me through nocturnal land.
And may I wake to her sweet song,
To this child; I'll do no wrong.
For here all worries do surely fade,
Under the darkness of heartless shade.
Defiant we dance under blacken mask,
Destined to carry this darken task.
Under the moon all flowers lose way,
As youth thought pure, wilts in may."
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