What swan clouds
Tread in grey white
Tilts an open gaze
And parted beaks
Platter a quack
Flooding the path
In motion thought
All transmuting
All morphing
To the divine will
Tread in grey white
Tilts an open gaze
And parted beaks
Platter a quack
Flooding the path
In motion thought
All transmuting
All morphing
To the divine will
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