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You’re the rose caught between wooden thorns,
You will bloom my darling but not for long. If I leave you be, then you choke and be left forlorn. So I’ll pick and hold you in the warmth of my palms. You’re the morning, caught between thoughts that the night would come, You will shine my darling, but not for long. By your side will I be, for when darkness comes you shall be gone, So I’d lie awake in your light, and I would love with all my might.
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