Black S

My Kandora, you wander solemnly.
I linger,
I owe Ђ" what?
A hundred tides!
I’ll wait, I know that
I’m native here.
My Kandora, your blood runs faster.
I linger
I owe Ђ" what?
My Kandora, the finest pellicle,
My loning.
I owe what?
A hundred tides!
I’ll stay, I know that I’m native here.
I linger,
I owe what?
I wonder why.