Old friend, we meet again.
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I see it when I'm awake.
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The true and natural state of my soul.
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He has awoken.
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I’m listening.
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The song sung through my fingers.
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Seemingly so elusive yet truly… Always within reach.
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Is necessary. To be felt. To be held. To be... Let go of.
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Bask in it.
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But I am home. Still longing for the lives past.
