Moire' √
When all the wind is at your will
With toss of hand, all life stands still
A nod of head will bend the ray
And, broken blade will enter fray
To travel on the course to end
No drift to left nor right does wend
No way in which to fail the test
Each step is rich, each touch is best
To trickle down the craggy break
In one's own heart, the patterns take
The spirit's moire' shimmers faint
And, life moves on without the taint
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