Most hearts feel home
Alone
No one can know our eternity is whole
And we can hear most of its cries
Are we at loss of vigor?
Soft bright pink blooms
Of my mother now become dried up grass
Her husbands seed gave
Her life in soil
And gave us four apples slowly
Growing rotting , life
Alone
No one can know our eternity is whole
And we can hear most of its cries
Are we at loss of vigor?
Of my mother now become dried up grass
Her husbands seed gave
Her life in soil
And gave us four apples slowly
Growing rotting , life
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