It's days like these,
When the weather breathes,
As mountains gallop above the rocking earth,
They shed their weight on the concupisent with heaving delight,
And in the heart it is wet with the blood of a thousand and a thousand more,
Ash filters the lungs conveniently
As it snows down on to the helpless souls which shriek into oblivion,
Damned in to the ever after
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