Grace

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Graceful steps

Leave her weary, craving rest.

This is nothing

More than Cynthia, at her best.



Troubled times

Seem to her a distant chime

Something far

And bundled in a twisted rhyme.



Spirits sway

But her disposition stays

Whilst she dances

Withering her fears away.

Whilst she prances

Weaving in and out of harm

Bringing forth her polished charm.

Swift advances

Move her further

Down a stern but solemn girder.



Graceful steps

Should be followed, though they hurt her.

This is nothing

More than Cynthia's spirits murdered.

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