" The feet fly vast from shepards sight. Her wings fly free in the night.
A lonely soul whos' heart has know, only that of being alone.
Blacken broken wings spread throughout her journey. Never to fall and lay a'top the gurney.
Her path is one of the many have taken. Yet her tears are real, undertaken.
Her loneliness no more than ours to bear. Her flight is crooked with despair
No truer fact of her stories told, except her scars, never hold.
But as she is, she'll always be. The repented sinner saint in me."
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