Where does the truth of spirit dwell? I shall tell you where I lay. I find myself in bells of laughter. In tears of injured hearts. I hide in consolation of splintered smiles. In the wild dance of liberty. In keys, in strings, in words, and howls. Stashed deep in the siren of language, culture, literature, and art. I live in the shade of perfect roses and a credulousness of childhood. I linger in the warmth of strangers, and dissipate in bluesy charms of olden melodies. Adrift in museful meditations, grappling with cowardice to keep hold to self and purpose. I laid with lies of fierce seduction, whose tongues licked my aching wounds and fed my bitter cries, till truth showed me my design. I have slept with fear for too long now our souls are disturbingly entwined. Countless paths taken to arrive at the discovery of self, to blindly follow an unseen light whose way occasions repose and hope.

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