too many times,
and too many moments.
the original,
it is too slow,
too sad, and romantic.
this,
new and younger,
without the many years of
worn down wishes and hopes,
without the soft hushed
timidness of a scared,
scarred soul.
now, i listen.
listen.
it is that same soul,
but breathing,
living,
flying through air,
gliding on ice,
something has lifted
the coating of death.
find the key,
let's find the key
and flee.
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