This world has always suited me ill.
But there are Resonances of my soul in this existence:
the cool, Pure smell of rain and damp soil;
the Endless black behind the stars;
wind that Gently brushes the face;
the Sighing shade of wild trees;
Echoes of arcane whispers off vaulted stone;
and your Voice.
Velvet darkness, warmth, and dreams.
A presence felt even through silence. A quiet
who's Tone you have always known.
In the slightest breath a thousand Words.
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