Airikr, 8 listopada 2011
I fear the fires, flaring, flaming, grazing
at the gates of unbroken ember glaring.
The wisp of wind, whipping and wailing,
but to what ends I mend thee?
To what bends thee?
Be it wether steel or jubilee?
A tied down heart
or one that's free
I took a ship from a harbor that once was ye.
Long gone,
the song,
that was once
you and me.
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