Floating over the ensheathed city I am looking for a little island to rest my wings. I was looking for the little tree, that once hugged my worries away. I was searching for the spring breeze, which had thrust my rocking boat gently through the storm. Their traces have faded before I could recount all of our reminiscences.
This blinded city of the south is deserted.
I am missing you.
My little hugging tree, gentle spring breeze, elfish sensible muse, purifying crystal water, pampering looking glass, smooth seashell, warming quartz sand.
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