the rock that she liked slowly dies
Lately she is not
because the world asks a lot
she misses the music
she's fed up of the beings.
As much they spread the tides
Less self is left to count.
Red apples and music maps
Please, wait for me like in the Moby's song!
Lately time ran away,
the swing was left behind
and blind winter came.
Long ago, people were far
Nowadays they just are.
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