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Each time plans go wrong or dreams fade a new storm cloud is added to my sky.
At the moment, the clouds are the sky.
Lowering my gaze again I follow the pull of the ocean.
Here and there a few sharp rocks can be seen jutting out of the water like spears waiting to impale an unlucky swimmer.
The problem is I am too tired to search for it.
In that little vessel all my faith and expectations are saved from the darkness.
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