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Do glasses cry out in your heart and do you let your will for flight, even if you spread the wings again it will no longer smell your spring. Are your circuits in your soul? from strange malice or must, helplessly sink into intrigue and you lose your life for a sine. Does your thirst for love diminish? from the scourge of painful words, the begging flame begging to leave a tiny spark, which shall be for your comfort among the lonely loneliness, to remind you of the man lived in your soul.