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My best friend went through hell because of a man. She was horribly and miserably abused in her unhealthy relationship with him. But she is now rid of him, and this clip reminds me of these verses by William Yeats:
The Rose of Battle:
And when at last defeated in His wars,
They have gone down under the same white stars,
We shall no longer hear the little cry
Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
Under the Moon:
To dream of women whose beauty was folded in dismay,
Even in an old story is a burden to be borne.
Cheers for posting this, Ellis.
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Thanks Bryan.
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Thanks for writingg
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