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The dim shades of;

The winter dusk seldom;

Listens to the;

Light of the soul; As the,

Scars turn red for; 

The twilight;

To sing the gale; cut loose;

To fly in that whirlwind;

Of throes, let the touch,

Of heal of the dark night ;

Sling me back to the base;

I am on a ride to catch;

Up a better souvenir.