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The lost sun dance of the breeze
And the quivering hopes you carry
Willful yet subtle, you who kissed my sou
l Where art thou? Where art thou?
Oh swollen ecstasy of the fresh green leaf
Onto thy newly born skin did the dew seep?
As a nomadic bee, I shall earn to be
Willful but subtle, you who kissed my soul
Where art thou? Where art thou?
This day I do not wish to see,
As my eyes fall upon my selfish needs
For this day I do not wish to see
The mist now befalls me,
The valley has stooped low of its beauty
The wind now carries the cry
The leaf today lays tattered by a wind so dry
It veins stranded, life oozed out awry.
This day I do not wish to see,
As my eyes fall upon the my bloodied needs
For this day I do not wish to see
As strewn I wish to lay deceased
For this is war’s truthful bleat
A lost agony in a selfish ecstasy.
A lost agony in a selfish ecstasy.
