I am Those who win their soul,
The active one is an accursed one,
The devils are chained in the death night.
The spirit mingles with the mind and body,
In every sighting there is a breath of calamity,
I behold the bold prudent eternity of light.
My love came in a second when death upset me,
The low echoes of a distant thunder whistled at me,
Duty was the forsaken quality of a thousand signs.
I am Those who fought in a chain of calculations,
Love begins a thought of preponderance, and rationale,
The lowest love bursts from too many hurts and pains.
I am a Man who dissolves in life that shines tonight,
The man who dies is the dutiful one, the woman who
Defines the artist is an artist herself, duty is the cry.
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