Waiting naked life

Every discord is subject to a deed whose idea is far from the outcome. When the hour of the pretence arrives, joy follows sorrow and joy in constantly alternating events. The gift of the breath of mention forms itself into the mental vortex whose wish was for another. No leaf's fall awaits the arrival of the ground in the rising fall. That lies gently, the upwelling weir near the mouth of the stream. The way of passing touches timelessness in the realm of glistening colourlessness.

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