I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
How can this moment be, so grand for me and so cruel to another that is?
Where is the light that shows those highlights in my mind to others?
And why those feelings that they see do not create the warmth in them as it does in me?
Where are the words that can convey the emotion that will change the world?
 I wrote a thousand pages in a vain effort to please the mind of another being.
 I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
How can this moment be, so grand for me and so cruel to another that is?
Where is the light that shows those highlights in my mind to others?
And why those feelings that they see do not create the warmth in them as it does in me?
Where are the words that can convey the emotion that will change the world?
 I wrote a thousand pages in a vain effort to please the mind of another being.
 I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
How can this moment be, so grand for me and so cruel to another that is?
Where is the light that shows those highlights in my mind to others?
And why those feelings that they see do not create the warmth in them as it does in me?
Where are the words that can convey the emotion that will change the world?
 I wrote a thousand pages in a vain effort to please the mind of another being.
 I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
How can this moment be, so grand for me and so cruel to another that is?
Where is the light that shows those highlights in my mind to others?
And why those feelings that they see do not create the warmth in them as it does in me?
Where are the words that can convey the emotion that will change the world?
 I wrote a thousand pages in a vain effort to please the mind of another being.
 I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
I wrote a thousand pages in vain.
 
 
 

 Gollum is learning the meaning of ....

badaba

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