The Sun.
If we fall asleep on leaves,
crackling beneath our back,
will be the embers of broken death;
We shall still stare at that sun,
who changes the seasons of time,
enveloped in agony of his own light.
crackling beneath our back,
will be the embers of broken death;
We shall still stare at that sun,
who changes the seasons of time,
enveloped in agony of his own light.
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