Text Box: Isn't it beautiful? If we could walk, hand in hand, I'd want to go to your town, your home, Words halted by wind are a gentle illusion A tomorrow torn by clouds is the voice of a distant place  
 
 
 
 
 
Text Box: My heart was swimming in words gathered by the wind My voice bounded into a cloud-carried tomorrow My heart trembled in the moon-swayed mirror Soft tears spilled with a stream of stars  
 
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