Glad senses are in total belief,
The voice of a stranger utters to the eyes
As you stare and wear,
Exciting the air of the brain.
Barring cuts of calamity hurts only you who studies,
In these sessions we decide daringly.
Glad senses level their loud laments,
Opening the wars and fairies found inside,
Copper discusses the heavenly wars.
My horizon is stealing the air of all its ramps and size.
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