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■ The oak
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I was watching him as he was staring into nothingness
Like in the old times Ages have passed since I last saw him The masquerade was sleeping in his thoughts And the image he had in mind Was long gone I’ve asked him : Fool , thee, My teacher , I’ve long deserted you And today I search for delivery in your answer Please do tell me , how do you know a woman? The woman...you don’ t get to know her You just invent And create and model her After the face and resembling of the butterflies you have in mind You will not get to know her Not even after she would have gotten underneath your skin You will not know her Not even when she would lose her breath into your arms Nor will you know her When she would cry Or she would laugh You will know her only in the emptiness of your soul When she would not be there anymore That bitter taste When dreams fail This is the closest imagine of a woman
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