With a muttered coincidence
Gold yet struck.
Oil yet revealed.
Bestowed with the gift of silence
Burdened with the curse of solitude.
Mistaken phrases renounced in whispered utterances.
It is like looking into a shattered mirror. 7 years bad luck.
3rd time is a charm.
Repaired yet again.
Broken courage.
Glued with warm delusions of satisfaction
The light of persistence
Reveals every crack.
One is never whom one says one is. is one?
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