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Perspicuity

Were it not for this resurrection there would be no will to pick up the pen.
Were it not for that temper, no spark the tedious Obscure could rekindle.

Pardon is not for the weak to bestow; magnanimity knows no better.
Pity can't fill the shoes of empathy nor walk the bitter path from Sorrow's door.

Should there be found a kernel of truth when pledge and heart were founded,
There should a seed of conviction germinate, from Silence, words arise once more.

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