Your sword is the intellect. Sharpened by curiosity, driven by carved curve of rights and wrongs. Of morality. The shield beats in your chest. Like a war drum, a rhythm of lust. An impulse, of weakness subordinated by fidelity. The dawn marks your pursuit, that begins like the Roman conquest. An allusion to your fortune, is the unpredictability of the storm and the salvation of the ocean's waves.Let your spirit wander, in search of guidance.
Satisfy your curiosity.
The gold is hidden in imperfection.
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