“Oh, how I wish each arrow out of my quiver
pierces through the wind,
sliding by the raindrops,
pins its target down on their knee.
Alas! the armor they wear
on their hearts this winter, is too thick”,
sighed Cupid.


“Oh, how I wish each arrow out of my quiver
pierces through the wind,
sliding by the raindrops,
pins its target down on their knee.
Alas! the armor they wear
on their hearts this winter, is too thick”,
sighed Cupid.
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