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Afīna Kedavra ([info]shyzo) wrote on December 16th, 2008 at 05:03 pm
The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land
Plumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky:
A man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers,
But awakes to a morning with no reason for waking

[..]

One world, one soul
Time pass, the river rolls

It's not enough it's not enough
His hand has faltered
 
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