This world has gathered vines
Strong and luscious lines
Movements satisfied
With our pause in the ocean
Crowds would gather on
The traces of the outer rings
We feel the waste through
I don't feel anything
This place is failing my
Thin ties to settled ground
Stands moving, dying wind
The cruel end will stare him down
A stone that you would hold
We can't hear, it doesn't ring
My hand just passes through
I don't feel anything
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