Misery Gnaws To The Bone; Why Then Do We Not Despair?
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(@Rehorve‘s.) Writing commissions now stand open, not wrapped with silk, but veiled in flame. Let none expect ease, for what flows through my hand burns— raw, untamed, aching with truth. I write not for applause, but because silence offends me. So bring forth your sorrow, your rage, your devotion...
