What is plucked will grow again
What is slain lives on
What is stolen will remain
What is gone is gone.
What is sea-born dies on land
Soft is trod upon.
What is given burns the hand
What is gone is gone.
Here is there, and high is low
All may be undone
What is true, no two men know
What is gone is gone.
Who has choices need not choose.
We must, who have none.
We can love but what we lose
What is gone is gone.
-Peter S. Beagle "The Last Unicorn"
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Brena-chan
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Bow down bitches.