Let the volcanoes in your heart never erupt
With a sharp surge that burns you into ashes
Let the thunders in your soul never sound loud
with a downpour that can mercilessly wash away the masks
Let the smiles of pretentious contentment
Preserve you from the judging glances
Let the perfect assortment of carefully balanced words
Help you preserve relations as they should be
But, does the poor soul writhe in stinging pain
when you rush to prove your smiles are true?

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