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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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