The storm has ended
Into frail rust torn rain
Wool gathering smiles in spring
Safe from summer
And my sweet 'Erinyes'
All to become antiquities
La la la la la lalai
La la la la la yeah
Wither cold winds
Purist and bright sanctify
Unbridled morningtide
These silly wishes...
What am I supposed to do with them
Give me something to live for
My Antarctica
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