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Choosing that faithful woman to fulfill this fate, she'll conceive a healthy baby with a loud scream, a sweet cry so innocent piercing air and soul, touch him tenderly, he is the fruit of our seed, may his faith shed light on doubt and darkness, let's hope that his deeds and words will be fine! Growing up learning the right ways, he'll do fine, these parents with their love will brighten his fate, he'll experience loneliness conjured up by darkness; none of our arguments he must hear when we scream, let's assure him that we are proud of this gentle seed: he'll understand what satisfies a man's empty soul! Some will try to convince that life is separated from the very soul, putting doubts aside, he must persuade himself that all is fine; he'll remember who lifted him up at birth: the hands of his seed and he'll thank his mother for being born despite an uncertain fate. A lot of wisdom in everything is needed to survive and not scream, never straying from those words that he must avoid all darkness. And he immensely influenced by our righteous ways, will not know darkness, even being tempted, he wouldn't allow a little disgrace stain his clean soul; if nightmares replace dreams, nothing will have to make him fret and scream. Our hope in him is greater than any opposing force that implies is not quite fine, but he'll stare at these two smiles that give him a brightness so denied by fate; isn't it such a triumphant joy to have grown and tendered a perfect seed? How can uncaring hearts abandon and not nourish a promising seed, letting shadows surround him with scary images of lethal darkness? Even at fourteen, he is too are fragile to fight the forces of fate, he may look mature, but he seeks adventure without fearing any soul; we watch what he does and we are certain his day will be really fine, and perhaps with our understanding, he will have no reason to scream. To bear a child every woman must feel a great pain followed by a final scream, than she will hold that tiny creature who tries to smile as she cuddles her first seed; before he was in her womb with little room to move, now he's being fed and feels fine. Wouldn't a mother call him by name and he' would respond even in darkness; her voice and touch will leave that feel of tenderness, he'll keep them in his soul, and like us, he'll teach his children to grow in love despite the unfairness of fate. Joy was heard in your scream, a lightning through darkness; you touched him softly, cherishing the beauty of your seed... this will effect his deeds, he'll be very wise in dealing with fate.
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