The morning light warmed garden air, But something felt not right, not fair. The Virtue Lamp that crowned the hill Stood dark and cold and very still. "The lamp," said Flora, "it's gone dim. Without its glow, the world feels grim."
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The morning light warmed garden air, But something felt not right, not fair. The Virtue Lamp that crowned the hill Stood dark and cold and very still. "The lamp," said Flora, "it's gone dim. Without its glow, the world feels grim."