Nobody has ever told you that you are not an impulse but on the contrary, a doubt between the reason and the heart. You are like something gone with the wind, you are what has not stayed in life, a silent voice, an extinguished passion, a dream turned into nightmare, an unreal life; every veil that covers you is nothing but a mask, falseness of the truth.
But stay the same, locked and buried in your mysteries so nobody can discover you, nobody can get to know you, so you can be what you are, another shadow in the darkness.
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