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Art thou a winged thief?
As bards have called thee.
Or as called that great scientist,
Whetever you are, flowing like a stream
take everything with you.
Dry leaves flow on surface,
With downs and ups and downs,
'till, thy wreched waves
Make them too heavy to go on.
Never to be seen again,
Rest float on.
Compelled to follow thy curses lead.
Lost ones, loved ones, sunk one,
Live, perhaps, under thy surface
doomed to never come