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Created on: December 02, 2008
Your existence will be timeless,
and your heart made not quite whole.
To wander in perfection evermore,
through forests of passing souls.
No escape will be had,
no redemption, none to tell.
For a deathly exile in life becomes
a personal grown hell.
Learn more about this author, Kasey Endsley.
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Poetry: Timeless
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