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by Goliath
" The child’s heart lies ope, a fragile bloom, wilted by the weight of the world. But see! A being of light bends close, their fingers threading gold through the torn edges, stitching sorrow into song. The air hums with the whisper of renewal, as though the very stars lean down to breathe life back into what was broken.
Here, in this realm between wound and healing, love is the needle, and grace, the thread. And the child? He is learning slowly, sweetly ,how to beat again."
by Goliath
" The child’s heart lies ope, a fragile bloom, wilted by the weight of the world. But see! A being of light bends close, their fingers threading gold through the torn edges, stitching sorrow into song. The air hums with the whisper of renewal, as though the very stars lean down to breathe life back into what was broken.
Here, in this realm between wound and healing, love is the needle, and grace, the thread. And the child? He is learning slowly, sweetly ,how to beat again."