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May 2017
Winds are blowing, from the east
Heart departed, from the mist
Mist that given me my name
Simple man, withstands the pain
And my faith, will be my shield
With an honor i shall wield
simple truth, is like the sword
in land of lies, fire burns
the swarms of flies
trees regrow, their broken bones
Resting underneath cold stones ..
Written by
Ilya Molotov
237
   Kalon
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