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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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