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■ The oak
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If there's no chance to stare inside four walls,
Beside a storm you'll hear a mourning sound; Agnostic view is suffering that falls From all illusions to the starving ground. The foils of time are strangled with thin ropes And sky converts to cosmos for one row - The cycle of grey life with tears and hopes Which pales in glowing ash for us to throw. I lurk in what they used to search and dive; For years since then I gently broke the chains Of mind and soul, but where shall I survive In all the sorrow from their bloodless veins? Don't drop the meaning of yourself, because The pain shall strike you with those harmful claws. 15.06.2008
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