What we see beneath beauty,
Is what we know about the truth,
A flowing stream of craving,
The moon becomes crude.
Put together a puzzle,
And find what is dear,
For everything dies,
And it all becomes clear.
So when it comes,
On a rainy day,
That thing you've wanted,
And which had to stay,
Bring a little dream closer to you,
And things will remain,
Like you want them to.
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