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It is a sacred journey,
this ride of my bicycle—
through the haze of humanity.

Tomorrow’s innocent sketch,
how foolish, how unfinished.

Songs that once were truth
turned into lullabies of lies,
the melody of myths
fading with each passing day.

Goodness, beauty,
the very essence of life—
all turned to ashes.
Ashes, ashes—
all fell down.

In sleepless sentiments,
the world calls me insensitive—
yet here I am,
lost in the endlessness
of gazing at you,
senselessly.

It’s the wind,
with a forgotten fragrance,
that whispers to the flame,
reminding the heart
that nothing truly disappears.

Writing on leaves,
the drops of fog,
some poems of life,
blossoming and smiling
love in the eyes.

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