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Beneath the water, the child who sank lay still, a face at peace. Lifted by a silken net, their skin, thin as light, revealed the essence of life, as if tracing its stream upward. Perhaps I can forgive myself. Because you were lifted, perhaps it is enough— I am no longer bound to stay. The carousel turns, round and round. We question existence only because we trust the world we share. Wrapped in the warmth that’s been given, I let myself be drawn to the faint light ahead. Please, let the path of dreams alive. May these voiceless prayers find their way to you.