The quick whisper of scissors, a gentle break in the thread, this sound marks a new beginning or a sudden end.

I carry lands to the sky by their colorful cloths, and tether their borders against winds.

What’s sweet and dry, or oversoaked, but furrowed either way?

I’m an ace in the garden Though, I’m shaped like a leaf.

I've got two tickets here, won't you pack your bags and let's leave tonight.