Shinda Hana

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Dried up well.
Scorched by the flames of Hell.
Mute bell.
Rang when it fell.
Lies no one can tell.
But still it will sell.

Dead flower dead flower.
Flooded by a rain shower.
Wilted away from the tower.
They will scour.

Pierced by an arrow.
There flies the sparrow.
Its now hallow.
Others will soon follow.
All fallow.
Here walks the shadow.

Dead flower dead flower.
Flooded by a rain shower.
Wilted away from the tower.
They will scour.

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