So it is chiseled  with an edge of iron
Pierced with the point of a diamond
Graven upon the table of my heart
That praise and blame are all the same
I hide this truth in secret places
Cover my tracks hide the traces
From the vantage of vanity
From dust to disarray to dust infinity
Mirrors won’t freeze the lines on my hand
I trace and erase my face in the sand – Nausher

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