Trapped to unlock
Hallelujah! A boulevard when appears nice and wide;
Who is he? When there’s a cul-de-sac; doors closing by the side
What makes her feel so dark even when light is just away for an inch;
What makes her fear so much, even when on the way there’s a pinch?
The chortle has gone, the smile has gone, sparkle is about to leave; slow sloth;
It is a melodrama of fate, but when will this tailor weave; glow cloth.
But isn’t she made for the dark, when weaving is the earning she depends;
When you are about to blind till from your hand the cloth’s grip bends.
How is the dream of shooting arrows possible when there are no eyes?
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