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...winter crescent resting in the high pine bough - you fly through the woods like a lone snow bird...

I'm falling apart, one part after another. Falling down on the world like snow. Half of me is already on the ground, watching from below.

A song she heard Of cold that gathers Like winter's tongue Among the shadows It rose like blackness In the sky

Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dark trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more than prettiness.