Weighted down with a drop,
Of angry dew,
The flower creeps down,
From the tapestry of blue.
But when the globe of light,
Dances into view,
The flower looks up,
And eyes the blue.
It stretches out,
And waves the light,
Into the darkness,
That is night.
Of angry dew,
The flower creeps down,
From the tapestry of blue.
But when the globe of light,
Dances into view,
The flower looks up,
And eyes the blue.
It stretches out,
And waves the light,
Into the darkness,
That is night.
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