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Maybe in the end,
You'll see the stars I've fixed,
While you were sleeping in serene.
You'll feel the wind
In blithesome screaming,
Telling you sad stories I've written.
Whisper's wishing,
Hoping the moon will bring
And show you what I've dreamed.
And in the end,
I'll still create your morning,
Where an amber light's touching
And kissing your skin.
