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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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