Little white lilies,
Dark black swans,
In that lake of smuggled poetry.
Somewhere in the forest,
Dreams go unseen,
To shape all things unborn,
Decorated with little white lilies
And dark black swans.
Dark black swans,
In that lake of smuggled poetry.
Somewhere in the forest,
Dreams go unseen,
To shape all things unborn,
Decorated with little white lilies
And dark black swans.
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