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Years have taken me to the top of the mountain, The arrow of misunderstanding pierces me again To the cliffs of hope pushed by words from the bottom, fast water invites me. * The waters are deep, black, cold my soul dives, tired. Alien breeze, the mean breeze my love down the waves blows away. * I drink bitterness, I swallow I give up... while the crying of the child haunts me. * In a tin box down the road. My chest threw under the hot water. The soul drained down the drain. The peace is brought to me by the linen cloth. -----

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

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