The Sound of Complaints


When fidgeting with fingers on foot gives a cubit to a ripple of water rustling in the ocean

When the sun pours out the light of the earth with the exception of the exception, the shoulders of humans who are still weighed down with grief

When the sun pours out the light of the earth with the exception of the exception, the shoulders of humans who are still weighed down with grief

I will immediately spill all weight on the surface of the land
from the sweat that quakes the thirst to guide the heart, from dark to light

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