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Starry Darkness
She never liked the darkness of night.
Her father always told her that stars
Were spirits of those who passed.
She hated the eerie lights in the dark.
For every night, the spirits came down.
Each one with the same signature, death.
Their cold hands would touch her warm cheek.
They only wanted to hear her voice and see eyes that cry.
She despised how the spirits of the night
Would lock up the sun in darkness.
She hated how they left her in the dark.
All that remained were the lost souls of the moon and stars.
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