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O! Children, come! Play games that needn’t split flesh with indifference, needn't smash bone to smithereens like it’s slate rock. The thin layers of forged love cascading along like fortune are a picture we alone paint, then destroy, as if rubbish. Violence has the somber bearing of the grim reaper, peace has the passageway of love nearest its center.

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© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark and Michelle Prime
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