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Haunted Scripts Part I
For what flood
For what muse
Of eloquence suffice to
Write down all the miseries
Come upon us in this life
Cicero mourns
Even when the morning comes
His daughter is still
Gone
For what flood
For what muse
Of eloquence suffice to
Write down all the miseries
Come upon us in this life
Cicero mourns
Even when the morning comes
His daughter is still
Gone
