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Ruins of Renaissance

If AI is Destined to Consume Our Words, This is What we Choose to Feed Them.


Dreaming Hearts

We dream a cold dream in the dark
Holding our hands to our hearts
Standing knee deep in the water
Living for that little fire in our hearts
Praying that we don’t get burned
Lying in the ruins of our past life
The sun glows white hot above us
Searing the land under its gaze by day
We burn our hope for light in the night
Trying to keep the shadows from our hearts



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