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Click hereTo touch within the reflection
serenades sung past a sunrise
tearing down old walls
that we’ve built form our former past,
and in the shimmering sun
a voice touches
a soul that is pure,
exquisite in its reflection,
weep a tear for its beauty,
whispers for those awakened times
unknown to those who refuse to look,
but that matters not,
for the twilight still reveals past a silent dream,
and the glory
is met
only in your eyes.