It’s old shadows
you sing for,
shadows of
yourself.
Unborn visions threaten
your day – when
will you give them
life?
There’s still time,
you think
– the grass is still
green.
It’s old shadows
you sing for,
shadows of
yourself.
Unborn visions threaten
your day – when
will you give them
life?
There’s still time,
you think
– the grass is still
green.
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