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The confused home is waiting for its dweller

It aspires to listen to the giggling child

And the mystifying soul moving in the cellar

Who were not ready to depart as per the fortuneteller.

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The wind blew strong with its sharpened propeller

Making the home no more but the topic of a storyteller

The dwellers ran away because of the murdering wind,

All in different directions making the world an interstellar.

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Confused

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