Rain turned to ice,and lightning splintered, it splicedthe black sky, it seeped a bright white.All animals they fled,from the sky as it bled,pale death that fell veiling the night.
Although steady and slow are the trail to love, there is no path to see through without the engine of passionate and true. (Soar)
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Although steady and slow are the trail to love, there is no path to see through without the engine of passionate and true. (Soar)
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