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ONE
All journeys start some where, though often we forget how and where and when did our candle become lit.
Often searching eyes do not look up to the sky, let us travel through peek and vally to stay safe from watchful eyes.
down into the fenns, along the water ways, watchful eyes do not exist within its misty haze
Forest full of soft light folding into shadow, hide our footsteps from prying eyes.
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