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Under Willow’s silver canopy, I found a place to hide. To calm my overactive mind and quell the war inside.

Water’s gentle voice purling nothing’s in my ear. Starlings lonely calling returns nothing far or near.

Peace returns for a moment, thoughts replaced with ease. Mother’s gentle breath lifts darkness on her breeze.

But voices never stay away; there’s no where you can run. Quite never disappears when it’s you you’re hiding from.

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