John wound himself and the clock. Poets twinkled in the sky. Morning was a passionate dream. Sound colored the sky. Baggage walked to the airport. I laughed till the sky fell on my head. Death is a venomous fang. He composed art and a song. Passion is the river of emotion. Song of love take refuge in the heart. Life is the beauty of a river. Birds glided as a gentle opera. Time has to live passionately. Luck is a bard of hope. Rain, I love its rhythms as it dances over the roof tops. Envy is death of the soul. Blues you are a figure of speech. The earth is a fruit tasty to be devoured. Angst lives in the soul and it fornicates the heart. Democracy is a myopic ballot. Ecstasy you live in the fruit of poetry.

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