In sunlit fields where olive trees grow,
Vincent wandered, mind aglow.
The blue of skies, a restless sea,
Matched the turmoil he longed to free.
The cypresses stood tall and proud,
Dark green fingers, reaching the cloud.
They whispered secrets to the breeze,
Of madness, pain, and transient peace.
Golden hues of wheat did dance,
In the light’s eternal trance.
A vivid orange, a burning...
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