Poem

I heard the echo, from the valleys and the heart
Open to the lonely soul of sickle harvesting
Repeat outrightly, but also repeat the well-being of
Eventually swaying in the desert oasis
I believe I am
Born as the bright summer flowers
Do not withered undefeated fiery demon rule
Heart rate and breathing to bear the load of the cumbersome
Bored

* Source unclear. Yeah ofc not me.

That’s it.

Enjoy.