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Syol Parra

DRY LEAF

 

 

Dry leaf, orphan child,

blown by a raging wind,

leaf of the broken field,

cast on a madness land.  

 

Dry leaf, orphan child,

where are you heading now,

beneath awaits jarring ground,

in rounds above faints the sky.  

 

Leaf of  the wreckage flight,

short is the air to choose,

joy of the sipping heights,  

 

hopeless on wings of despair,

from upper branch a last falling,

       crashes  the leaf in dark vail.          

 

 

 

 

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