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No SenseAt first there was the noise, it’s always the noise.
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Whether it is the songs of the wind, or the howling of pain, the noise is still there.
Shhh… listen… she’s here.
Her steps make my heart flutter, but her thoughts make my mind wither.
She creates the noise, though for what reason I’ll never know.
She is always at my side, whether I see her or not.
She whispers in my ear, but I can not hear her.
She creates all my hate, but anger I feel none.
She drinks all my tears, and for her all I feel is fear.
Well, that, and pity.
She is the wind that tears the earth, the love that gives heed to fear,
the hate that is never angered, and the only one who will be with me.
She is the lost.