January 22
Alas when the creaking sound from the Engine fails,
We will wash the tyranny with our sins and guns.
Far from the council, and into the western winds,
lets walk past like captured and tamed beasts, with no means.
As the instinct waves good bye and settles for somelses crown,
We wont drown or die, but shall fill our lungs till the dawn.
The dimensions outside, and those inside were only soan,
So lets harvest, into and beyond we shall march till its known.
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