the hand that i was seeking
on the dark moors of my own desire
belong to me
my own hand is the guiding light
that prevails
that stands firm amidst the chaos of the changing world
for in that perfect sphere of love
there can be no pain
pain arises from the loss of self
as it splinters into shards from loss
but it is not by another hand that we become reborn
but by our own secret knowing
of our own hearts
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