Desi Anggraeni


I fly as the crow flapping its pair of wing
carrying things that I don't wanna bring
the strong wind blows me fast in the evening
almost I fall down to the black ring

sky is getting dark, my view is no longer clear
it is raining hard, the crow sits on a strong twig
I'm still flying high, but my hope is no longer big
it is roughly dashed by the thunder I hear

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