I wonder why,
The grass smells so good after the garden is mowed?
Is it the joy of the garden or the grass weeping it's endure.
There is a clam before any storm?
Is the shore mocking the waves or the waves smiling at the irony.
There is lightning before rain?
Is it the wrath of the sky or the earth welcoming the shower.
The heart aches when the soul cries?
Is it the wait for a new dawn or the undying odyssey of silence.
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