Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
The tide was a poem that only time could create, and I watched it stream and brim and makes its steady dash homeward, to the ocean.
South of Broad
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The tide was a poem that only time could create, and I watched it stream and brim and makes its steady dash homeward, to the ocean.
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