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While you're home watching destiny being fulfilled through your window, you are safe to turn off your survival mode and just imagine what these almost naked trees feel trying tooth and nail to save their last leaf. Poetry itself asks to be created. Does it begin from a falling leaf or does it start from an empty sheet of paper (in lithuanian word lapas means both - sheet of paper and leaf)?

These trees are doomed to lose this fight, but no wind will ever take your leaves. Just let yourself to get inspired.

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