Two broken souls,
one is wounded, the other is cold.
Thirsting for a place they call home,
in two worlds that nobody knows.
Walking walking,
live like the dead, live like corpses.
Nowhere to go, o wondering soul,
searching to the edge of unknown.
Two broken souls,
one is wounded, the other is cold.
I pray the day comes like stories told,
that two broken souls make one whole.
- GS
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