Back up the path. . .
Retrace the long road we pass. . .
From Our Mother's arms. . .
I woke in the silence of the
night. . .
Silent embrace your soul. . .
The question in my indecision. . .
Can't wash away this
melancholy. . .
Now a month yourself in the arms of the earth. . .
In your long sleep. . .
Goods that five months ago I
encountered lay in the
disappointment. . .
Voice two months ago a weak
whisper in my ear. . .
Asked me to come back. . . .
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