Step your feet on the warm sands
stopping the stare at the mirage, that empty beauty
run into the source of the true spring
even though it is as though a trap
walk silently to keep the water inside
follow the little creatures walk
they would bring you to that little tiny water
as the sun burns
its rays scorch the outer skins of hands and lips
go straight looking what is ahead
only silently, without grumbling
use your two golden wings
of modesty and perseverance
and everything is going to be as it is
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