I hold no illusions of the world, nor do I fluster
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Stories untold, memories unfold
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Stories remain untold, left for time to whisper.
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All is well， nothing more
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To breathe is to bloom.
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From now on, the seasons you walk through are my view.
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Apart from nearby worries and crowded noise.
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Unspoken words, endless stories.
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No need to chase the stars—let them come.
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