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Musings of the bank of the St. Lawrence

A band of infinite steel against a limitless charcoal sky,


A band of infinite steel against a limitless charcoal sky,

the St. Lawrence apathetically watches the approach of Winter’s cold

as he carelessly holds the metropolis beside his bed like

an exhausted harlot is held in the moment before her escort

pays her for her soul. Both were colourful riots of fun and passion

now spent and fading already into grey memory against the weight of eternity.

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