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A rose, alone in an empty field. I run too fast, I cannot yield. The sweet scent, calling me near. I run through the field, not knowing what it is I search for. But I run, desperate to get there more and more. Them smell, like that of a quiet spring rain. I feel it, the rose, alone, in pain. I reach the rose. It shimmers in the light. I lightly dig it up, with a gently might. I take the rose; I will keep it with me. I will keep it safe, for all eternity. For this rose is like no other. This rose is sacred to me. This rose was supposed to be found by me. I keep this rose close to my heart. It does so with me. For this rose lives. I found the rose. The one I will keep, help, and heal. The rose I found in that vast empty field. |
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