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The whole scenery draped in the curtain of rain.

Drops of water fell on the ground.

Some from the sky, and once, from the eyes of the ones who had lost him to the great beyond.

Drops fell on the faded roses. Bright red color, forced to melt away from the force of time.

Drops of water, dripping through dry leaves, tricking down the twigs and trunk.

Drops slipped on the gray stone:

“In the loving memory of”

“Tadashi Hamda”

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