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10 brown bess

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O ye of many faces, whose stumbles seal the coffin A bloom to bring the latest cos trials shed too often In whispers fake an orchard, affection just like coughing Belies the lately tortured; can't hide or make it soften The mask you kept eliding grows warped in its concealing Its grin I fight abiding despite an endless healing This risk entails some chances; pulseflutters utter their name Approaching through the branches, heatstroke blurs the barrel's aim Ears ring