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■ The oak
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The nature’s loneliness is hunting,
It kills me, strikes me from inside, For in its lot I find my beating Of heart that keeps to seek and hide. Now I’m a lone wolf, feel so mortal I scream, I watch with self delight How everything becomes immortal Under my wild, strange insight. Here, in this spot where grass is growing, Where birds are flying with my dreams, It’s here where I, the sad and lonely, Keep waiting under silent screams. My pain is loud, but no one hears it, My nature’s calling from inside, The outside world it doesn’t matter, It’s just a game of seek and hide.
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