Is it what you see in the sight,
Or is it just the view inside?
Is that yellow leave of autumn very insightful?
Ever felt the pain it pouring to the ground, insane full?
Is that the river of water or the layer of sand
Is it the Hazel truth or just the glimpse of band?
Is it in the highness of the crown?
Or the fear of being underground
It's not the truth of that prickly sight
But just the latent piece of bright
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