Silent voices and lunatics being strange
Lake waters evaporating into the air
Yet the rains do not fall –
The green floors have become sallow
And strangeness just grows there
Pondering thoughts turning into thoughts of pall
While shadows dance with the strange fellow
Carrying bags of precious things that belong nowhere
And everyone guesses to who; strange no one
Knows anyone anymore; the strangers shun
Away into the darkness where strange is being
And all the room is fleeing
From the cascading floors falling estrange.
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