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The Bridge

Crossing the bridge of embers burned. Where have all my ghosts gone? On a night painted with snow. So silently my mind drifts to when we were but young lovers. Spanning memories of our lagoon, when we were like dolphins. So in love. Where has the calliope of music gone?  On the midway of our love's blessings. Crossing the bridge of embers burned. 

 

 

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