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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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