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■ The oak
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Life is not like it may usually seems to be
Look at it through the hollow of the stony gorge Life stands alone like an abandoned withered tree No birds anymore to chirp or sing a song No shadow for a traveler to rest and refresh beneath Nothing that which spring had brought for long. Only a small footprint left to sorrow for the while You never know when this last mark will vanish too Aqueous sadness and still bereft of its blessed smile. Mystery of Life changes faces with passing time What was once blooming spring deadly autumn turns Music that Life was loses its melodious chime.
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