a soul is sleeping in body
Don Quixote's pike pierced vicious sentiment
i saw worriless birds fleet
the light and the old man's sight
are sleepy
enwind in a string of years end to end
the organ sounds
the pain becomes bigger and bigger
the glass cracks make a grimace
choke whispers
the morning sun rises in its devoir
a vast expanse of water holds the mirth of life and love
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