Drops fall, cascading after all,
noises, far away, do they fade, fade, fade,
Until, the oceans lid a spade,
And there you see, a pine
a quake has been made,
There is no motive to run away,
If I may?
Why hide, why escape, why go..?
is to have no faith.
Yet to verify ones calling among the midst.
Who is Luke?
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