Sunday, 28 August 2016

The wolf shall rise again

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A crippling wind spirits my sky, and a northern call freezes my dreams, talking about fire and warm hands. In the dark she walks, lost and strong, defiant and defeated.
Constellations rise and set the path, moons cross the heaven and I wait the fall. The Year of the Wolf is once more, and it's in winter that the He is stronger.

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