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With the nightbreeze, a prayer echoes in the distance
giving life to the leaves, moving as in a light dance
– Do you hear how the ancient oaks whispers
singing their song for the sleeping trees?

The seasons come and go, they never wait
leaves fall to the soil, burns out and fade
To be brought to life under warm sun again
as this weatherworn world will be the same

And very soon, you and I, will not remain

Β© Sirenia 2012
Photo Β© Stelios