itβs a call to alms, more than whispers on the wind, the earth holds our fears, holds our sins, holds children starving, crying, war-torn, stares in the face of our hate and says, βshhh, shhh, shhh, itβs okay, you are loved.β a mother falls to grief, stands, weeps to water a garden she will never taste the fruit of
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Minted RΕHKI EP 1 : Intersection βοΈ
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there is no door
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