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*~:,,,,,,, In The Endless Winter Day, On The ,,,,,,,:~*
$*~:,,,,,, Crystal White Plains... We Trudge Along ,,,,,,:~*$
¤$*~:,,,,, The Train Tracks... Themselves Slowly ,,,,,:~*$¤
£¤$*~:,,,, Snowed Over, In The Still Hours Since ,,,,:~*$¤£
#£¤$*~:,,, The Last Supply Train. ,,,:~*$¤£#
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###£¤$*~:, Bell-Like Sounds Of The Blinding ,:~*$¤£###
##£¤$*~:,, Ground. Rifles Attached To Our Wrist, ,,:~*$¤£##
#£¤$*~:,,, Sharing In Our Bloodstream. My Husky, ,,,:~*$¤£#
£¤$*~:,,,, My Warm-Coffee-In-Cold-Snow... ,,,,:~*$¤£
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$*~:,,,,,, The First Five Shots You Can Spend ,,,,,,:~*$
*~:,,,,,,, Indiscriminately, They Hurt But Deal No ,,,,,,,:~*
~:,,,,,,,, Long Time Damage To The Shooter. The ,,,,,,,,:~
:,,,,,,,,, Next Five You Must Spend Wisely, They ,,,,,,,,,:
,,,,,,,,,, Will Take Days To Heal. The Final Five ,,,,,,,,,,
:,,,,,,,,, You Must Not Spend At All. ,,,,,,,,,:
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*~:,,,,,,, Weeks Earlier, In The Weak Autumn Dawn, ,,,,,,,:~*
$*~:,,,,,, In The Blue-Gray Fog... Something Is ,,,,,,:~*$
¤$*~:,,,,, Burning With A Deep Crimson Flame, ,,,,,:~*$¤
£¤$*~:,,,, Untameable By Water Or Wind. ,,,,:~*$¤£
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