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Literature Text
I remain cold and wooden, blank and dull in the face of giants
And the crashing of planets, it stirs not a chill on my spine.
How long must storms rage, and the universe tremble before I live?
Forced to look on you,
I disturb the universe
With my pen at last.
And the crashing of planets, it stirs not a chill on my spine.
How long must storms rage, and the universe tremble before I live?
Forced to look on you,
I disturb the universe
With my pen at last.
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do i dare?