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I used to dream a dream of melancholy gone. It was one full of rapture and all I haven't done. Today when I awoke from sleep I found my mind was bare. I dug through memories for my dream and found nothing was there. Now my dreams have gone away and in their wake they left... Nothing but a shallow mind who's master of nothing deft. Will the pixies find me hiding out among the dreadful weeds? Rather, shall they find me here piled with the rest of all and everyone who bleeds?
