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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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