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Dec 2017
Lungs inflate
The whistle of the biting wind
Hauntingly stilling
Moss covered mountains
Colliding with the sky
Enveloped in unruffled grandeur
Far from the shore's strife
The golden hue above, glimmering
On waters that lie calm
Softened
In the centre of winter
The Noose
Written by
The Noose  32/F/Standing on the gallows
(32/F/Standing on the gallows)   
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