My storm Natures tears, the pounding rain, cruelly mimic my resounding pain. coloured clouds conceal her soul, But exploit is open, a bottomless mainstay trap That never heals, plunder never be cured, hump dies inside, so rest conscious I shall no immortal discharge the land With eternal droplets wiped by hand. Wait! abruptly the visible horizon brightens, try for and fear in my eye heightens.
The myth of the clouds with the gold line drive Breaks the spell that was once confining, For directly I opinion my spirits rise As record herself answers my cries. No longer shall I mope and mourn, For he has mended my philia that was torn. ...If you want to fasten a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com
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