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Yet I still remember days of my happiness, though all the memories and joy of those times decay. I hold on to something false, and something that can and never will be. Why do I hope when there's no hope to be granted? Why should I believe, for even a small amount of my precious time, that a smile should come of it? They are questions that limit my wisdom and plague my heart, while creating a rift between thought and instinct. These pains are never forgotten and these shards, which were once my soul, are never restored. All cries and prayers fall upon the deaf, which leaves me alone once again.