in my dream i see, i saw, but my heart feels heavy for my eyes.
its like an onion that's been slice before thee, but the weepers remain deem.
its like an onion that's been slice before thee, but the weepers remain deem.
who are the tone and tunes of the earth that cry loud like the wolf of the winter, there i call them weepers
its not my vow nor my calls, but the innocent cry move my gout, even in pains flies still flee like evil who plays the drums of war.
war in terms death is pays. but the weep remain shy in fear, like a new born baby running from its fears.
who am i among thee, but weeps of the weeper, even i weep like a baby even in the heart of men they weep like a lion
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