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■ The oak
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I miss the moon...
But I light up my cigarette And feel like holding it between my fingers... Then I see a rain of ashes Must be the dead stars That surrounded my love... I pray for fog, to lose myself To guide me to unknown To paint me in the museum of oblivion.. I crave for wine, To drink it with thirst And to receive the gift of sleep As a faint, as numbness... I miss you.... But curse myself when my eyes are shut And you don't come to meet me.. Dark and silence fall in love with me... I hate the mirror As it shows me past, must be broken... Or I just enjoy to blame it.... For the thoughts that allure me And swing with me, Back in time.. Whatever happened to the music? No violin to caress my lashes, No drums to bite my lips on, No guitar to scream at me with passion... No concert to accompany my life... I am sorry...but everything seems to have been cancelled..
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