Rain turned to ice,and lightning splintered, it splicedthe black sky, it seeped a bright white.All animals they fled,from the sky as it bled,pale death that fell veiling the night.
The fakirs always throng the sea-shoreTo find meaning in the chaosAnd then they too become melancholyFeeling nothing but their naked toes.
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The fakirs always throng the sea-shoreTo find meaning in the chaosAnd then they too become melancholyFeeling nothing but their naked toes.
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