Title: Departure by the clouds
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Instructions
In the clouds I saw her standing, and the harps of her sorrow.
The stars glistened, and I hoped, they'd be shining tomorrow.
She dances into light like the butterfly, the moth and the shadow.
Then I realized, her departure from the sky could be a gift thorough.
In the clouds I saw her standing, and the harps of her sorrow.
The stars glistened, and I hoped, they'd be shining tomorrow.
She dances into light like the butterfly, the moth and the shadow.
Then I realized, her departure from the sky could be a gift thorough.
In the clouds I saw her standing, and the harps of her sorrow.
The stars glistened, and I hoped, they'd be shining tomorrow.
She dances into light like the butterfly, the moth and the shadow.
Then I realized, her departure from the sky could be a gift thorough.
And in the fire of her love I saw myself, and the ash of my own.
The shards glistened, and I hoped, they'd be enough.
The butterfly, the moth and the shadow.
None
In a cloud i saw her standing.
And the cloud that took the form (when the rest of heaven was blue.
And a cloud rose like dread.
The cloud descended and the ray vanished.
The stoop of oaks lifts up the cloud.
None of the above
I will not see another sorrow.
And the harps of your sorrow.
The harps of david, which were a sorrow.
And you, who sat down to weep your sorrow.
Then he who had gathered up his sorrow.
None of the above
I knew then this was no place for happiness.
And in the fire of her love I saw myself, and the ash of my own.
I cried for her, and prayed for the pain.
The shards glistened, and I hoped, they'd be enough.
I cried for her, and I saw her crying in the rain.
None of the above
The butterfly is a member of the chicago.
The butterfly, the moth and the shadow.
And zap until the picture coincides with the sound the neighbours have installed in their studio.
Is it a portrait? — yes, i am posing for а photo.
And the butterfly garden of chicago.
None of the above
Death is a mighty river.
Death is a great leveler.
Death is a sham.
Death is a gift.
Death is a slumber.
None of the above
A cloud is a tyrant.
The cloud is a slumbering lion.
The cloud is a swarm of flies, chasing the sun.
The cloud is a dark sage.
The cloud is a slumbering october.
None of the above
Death comes like a gust of wind
Death comes like a thief in the night
Death is like a slumbering child
Death comes like a savage lioness
Death comes knocking like a thief in the night
None of the above
Our departure felt like a sigh of relief
The departure felt like a dream
Departure felt like a goodbye kiss
And we depart like a flock of pigeons,
And departure like a blizzard
None of the above