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In a desolate world, a lonely little girl swings, embodying the pain of being an unloved orphan; the distant moon observes her, a symbol of the cruel absence of love in her life.

Her life is filled with emotional pain and neglect, symbolized by her wild hair and oversized boots. The swing represents her despair and sense of loss, with the moon as her only companion, unable to alleviate her suffering. Trapped in loneliness, she remains both unseen and memorable, with the night surrounding her yet unable to conceal her pain.

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She swings beneath a sky of stone,
An orphan carved from dust and tears,
Her heart, a house of aching bone,
Where every pulse ignites new fears.

Her hair, a tempest tangled tight,
Whips through the wind like haunted cries,
A forest scorched by endless night,
Each breath a storm that never dies.

No arms will catch her when she falls,
No voice to whisper soft her name,
She drifts through life’s abandoned halls,
A ghost too lost to ever claim.

Her boots, like graves for broken dreams,
Drag through the soil of endless wrong,
They stumble through forgotten streams,
Where hope has drowned, and joy’s long gone.

Her dress, once bright as summer skies,
Hangs now in tatters, gray and cold,
A shroud that hides her silent cries,
A tapestry of pain untold.

Her eyes, two oceans frozen still,
Reflect the moon’s cold, distant gaze,
A barren heart the world won’t fill,
She’s trapped inside an endless maze.

The swing, a pendulum of grief,
Sways on the ropes of ragged fear,
Her hands, like brittle autumn leaves,
Hold tight to ghosts no one can hear.

No mother’s kiss, no father’s care,
No tender hand to brush her cheek,
She’s just a wound that festers there,
A soul that’s always lost and weak.

The moon, her only silent friend,
Watches her with a bleeding glow,
A witness to her bitter end,
To pain no one will ever know.

The swing groans like a dying plea,
Begging for love that never came,
She is the child eternity
Forgot, left nameless in her shame.

Each movement is a mournful scream,
Each breeze a knife that cuts her deep,
She’s just the echo of a dream
That wakes the earth but cannot sleep.

She is the tear the stars denied,
The wound the heavens won’t attend,
An unwanted soul, a storm inside,
Where pain begins and has no end.

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In the deepening night, she remains a child engulfed in sorrow, endlessly circling broken dreams and silence. Bound to her pain, the moon watches coldly, while distant stars twinkle, leaving her lonely in their shadows.

She is a soul in deep anguish, forever an orphan, trapped between life and death, longing for peace that eludes her while experiencing profound, eternal pain.

A neglected child swings through an endless night, bearing an unending sorrow beneath an indifferent moon, symbolizing the collective pain and restlessness of unloved souls.

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