She cries silently within her soul Her eyes are dry, black like coal, Her voice cracks in the approach to speak, while shaking hands out of fear bled not sweet. Thus not shout within the walls ancient corps asleep side by side a dead rose. A tear makes its way out of her eye, brakes the soil which was dry , a infant rose starts to bloom, the dead smile in the light of the moon. Alive she cried, knee deep in the rich soil, my princess is alive once again. I am happy.
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