The whispers, clatters, filled
Dripping, the grain of rain
Deflagrated will even killed
Flew it far by wind
Stood on the blurred wit
Did I have the brave eyes?
It's still the folded sheet
For I never have the brave eyes
The folded sheet never read
Even the Sun became blind
All the words are sealed
Thus I hit the hay by wine
Dropped it again into the whisper
Enveloped by sat head
What the written melody there
In that folded sheet, it kept
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