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‘I was born with the meaning of home running through my veins.’ - Lauren Eden whispers of home rule in the chambers of one’s heart tales of comfort meander through pulsing veins putting roots down in the solid foundations where echoes of love mirror recalled events the path to comfort lit by dawn’s tender light the heartbeat a metronome of anticipation of warm embrace and succour born of stardust and fantastical expectations don’t let reality encroach on the love for home ‘When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.’ - Lauren Eden love denied and measured by necessity not forthcoming but fiercely competed for the silver spoon of birthright not evident the shadow of it a taunting reminder of what could have been accomplished, also gained driven by a searing hunger to succeed the knives of experience, the taskmasters love fought for and won over the warrior’s soul to keep an unyielding heart beneath the stormy skies
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