On the wings of the crow evening descends
Dripping from a tangerine sky
The scattered stars, a buckle moon,
Gleaming lantern festoons
Grow bright as the light slowly dies
An evening breeze gently blows
Gently lifts a fallen leaf
It flits, and it floats, and it flies
It gets lost in the dark,
In the lonely city park
Will it ever return if it tries?
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