If this keeps up
If this keeps up, we might need to change this blog
Into a crying one. For often I am locked
By self-shaped shackles into times
Of reflection on this wintry clime.
There will be strange thunder;
Horrid sense of wonder
Placed in here.
Some fear
my dear
We
See
Things
So
No
Then
Friends
Are dear.
Into a crying one. For often I am locked
By self-shaped shackles into times
Of reflection on this wintry clime.
There will be strange thunder;
Horrid sense of wonder
Placed in here.
Some fear
my dear
We
See
Things
So
No
Then
Friends
Are dear.
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