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■ The oak
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I think i could live here forever
this little patch of ground where we stretch out ourselves whisper between and through every self examined meaning that holds in and of its own The dreams of the morrow. I believe that I could walk all these roads these momentous depths that range from your mind into mine that hinges upon your laughter cries within your tears I know I can! If ever there was any reason and meaning to what i have ever thought it all holds its own here, awaiting sometimes like a none ending dream In anticipation I await just the simple yes that will carry the foundations of my every tomorrow, my hopes, my dreams Here upon your delicate frame and mind. Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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