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On the first day of the seasons

The last day of her life

Her soul beholding the forbidden truth
What would it be like, to climb up high? Climb until your thoughts fly by. Nothing left to think just thoughts… thought… thoughts that soar thoughts that fly thoughts’ that think thoughts’ as time flies by. As the hours soar as the days unfold. The months ahead. The years untold. Every letter, every picture, every word, every view. A lie deep within. Just waiting, waiting….still yet waiting to be told.

as the light begins to die

And the wolf man cries

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