Why do you pity yourself? they say, and I respond. I do not pity myself. For if I did, I would publicly claim my woes and fears. Instead I tend to call myself out on my failures. But if we do not strive to mend our flaws we fail once more.
Your eyes are something of a mystery, clouded with fog yet they remain, a beacon of light across the sea. Still waves that once crashed upon the shore, calming blue now shaded green with envy, a frightening fire rages in your core. You are the ocean, you are the guide, the lighthouse on the jagged rock, you are the ship-strong and true in your stride. With the mainland ahead and the depths below, and the creatures that glide under the channels, a dark black storm continues to grow.
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