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Wolf's Poetry
As if these wings could hold me up
Could fly me away to heaven's gate
Rips and tears and blood weighing me down
As if I could ever run from winter's wake
Silent and cold and snow turning red
Beauty alive is so much more beautiful dead
Burn me in the black and drown me in the white
Colorless, paling face, and I'll tell you I'm alright





 
 
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