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by Ila Life were a bed of roses, Rhymes danced many faces, Hinders frightened past our ways, Each moment, gaiety sways. If… Dreams, stray in the midst, Of desires, fluttered. Roving in the airs, Sparklingly scattered. Each stone imbibes fortune, For fortune showers dry noons. In those golden springs, Of divine profusions, Heavens would nestle, In the bottoms of our souls. |
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