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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2015-11-27 | |
You pull my bolts of fog,
you close or open the prison, your hands become moving levers, we’ll walk smiling together. Forgetfulness, body with no wings is shrinking as a shadow, with the patience fallen below the steps. The way through to the edge of the universe is laying, your belief remains a point of yesterday, today we seek a new horizon under which we go through towards tomorrow.
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