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The desire to fill blank pages causes an affliction called stress
An alarm going off that's echoed against grimy walls
Dulled duress
No longer empty however always long and hollow halls
One girl wrapped up in an archaic flowered dress
Not like a gift but like a bandage over open wounds

Forced to walk across shifting black sand dunes
Her shadow the only other presence in reflection
A sight to be seen but it's all beyond detection
By you
Anyway

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