Lobo's gaze, akin to celestial orbs,
Illuminates the path of virtue,
Yet, within the same luminescence,
Lurks the abyss of moral ambiguity.
Lobo's breath, a zephyr of tranquility,
Whispers the essence of equanimity,
Yet, with a mere shift of the wind,
Transforms into a maelstrom of ire.
Lobo's paws, embodiments of fortitude,
Traverse the terrain of resilience,
Yet, beneath their formidable exterior,
Lies the tremor of existential dread.
Lobo's presence, a harmonious symphony,
Resonates with the cadence of grace,
Yet, interwoven within the melody,
Is the discordant note of chaos.
Lobo's gaze, a beacon of promise,
Guides through the labyrinth of night,
Yet, in its melancholic howl,
Echoes the lament of lost enlightenment.
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