The Canoes made from skins of things unknown
untold
but beheld in nightly gleams of shining stars
When traveling along the river flow
no one would see each other's eyes
for fear that they might know
where the shining gleam in their bamboo was fabricated
They wrote of ancient songs
"sticks and stones...
sticks and stones....
sticks and stones...
sticks and stones...."
No one dared finish, to maintain a holy ebb
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