This soul, teeming with tenebrosity, a heart belonging to nothing but unsaid transgression yet to be committed. It desires to be anything but a lost soul in the wind. So if it confesses to the passing waves, will the tranquil waters remove the thorns from its once-smoothed skin? May the skies once more heal its sorrows, may the wind cleanse it of regrets, and may the fire that perishes the world rid it of its rage. However, this is not enough, for it is still blighted with affliction. So in time may its external body's putrefaction finally put its thoughts to rest. Then may the universe be at peace again.
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