all this fantasy and thrill
they all move at your will
as in the oldest songs they say
"whatever you sow
you'll reap, someday"
i've become a ghost for you
for no longer than a day but two
soon the motherland
from the sea will glow
blinding the sight
shadowing all we did,
would do or might;
april is close as the sun bursts,
i'll vanish,
when date on the calender,
points, with a stingy finger, the first.
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