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tide of sorrow
you follow the stream,
of a voice in the wind .
your old nightmare gleam,
the hesitation in welts of kind .
how much can I notice,
the fair of your garden .
spoken judge of lotus ,
everything has been departed.
and your soul itself,
in empty...
of a voice in the wind .
your old nightmare gleam,
the hesitation in welts of kind .
how much can I notice,
the fair of your garden .
spoken judge of lotus ,
everything has been departed.
and your soul itself,
in empty...
