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When a poet is disillusioned,
his soul is saddened,
painting his story in shadows,
and in his eyes, the calm disarms.
The words, that once danced
in the breeze of an enchanted verse,
become distant echoes
in a corner of a torn heart.
The guiding path is lost,
the muses, once friends,
flee to the wind of their agony,
leaving their voice in the darkness of life.
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