Chris Ryker's Sandbox

Swiftly, To the fire
find the Forest to burn in the Foggy winter
The stars Setting a blaze to the forest,barren and cold
the Hanged One is in the Cold Darkness
the blood red river flows
the class is dead, a drift in the lake.
As the black moon howls, the river runs faster, and deeper,
the forest becomes nothing but ash to blow into the cold winter,
the wildlife gone, the black moon is here, we all go with it.

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