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Fill me again
With the words of a poem
You may ne’er complete
So I may drink them in
Like a bitter-sweet potion
A secret spell
Masked as a lullaby
That you may soothe me to sleep
So you may lie beside me and weep
But be not alone in your grief
Rejecting the belief
That you merit love,
As you inter your soul to the ground
Nurturing the infinite lie
Investing in the belief
That it is better to die
Than be found.
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