has set silent, lonely.
It waits for my muse.
Or an assignment.
Soon.
Very soon.
It waits for my muse.
Or an assignment.
Soon.
Very soon.
Trace of footfalls pierce glistening white, tokens of travellers. Bygone origins, trivial destinations. Blinding reflections as icy air sneaks through unseen fissures. Warmth beckons and beauty is abandoned.
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