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Mirror, mirror: all of a sudden everything will be clear - as long as it isn't over today, my ideals burnt upon the altar of a sharp melancholy: exhausted of a sea of wrecks and tangles, with my spirit parched for thirst of revolt, for fear of oblivion; beyond this incompleteness, this continual weakness my star, distant, cradle of my heresies - rock me timeless tide, disappear soul of mine, soft, in the last reflection of light. Sweetest land, I am waiting still for the uncertain flower of your smile.