sinning

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When the dreamer’s dream, where do they go? It’s not that field of yellow flowers. There are no happy endings in this story. To dream is to lie. To lie is to sin.
I can hear him whisper in my ear, he calls my name, controls me with fear.   These vile demons running in my head, live in my dreams and beneath my bed.   I feel guilty.
Stumble, trip and fall I will arise once more No weight may break me No obstacle may bar me I will overcome it all No demon shall sway me
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