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The Root of All Evil
​
I called without answer
The silence is familiar
It hurts
So I want to cry my tears away
How childish
To pluck at my insecurities
Like innocent petals of pink peonies
But in truth, I hate myself for letting that regal Orchid
On the windowsill shrivel into Herself
Endless is the desire for Flowers that never die
Against the gaze of a warm horizon
And Peace that passeth all understanding
Which love and religion have long withheld from me
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