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I tasted iron on my tongue
before the leaves turned red
I have seen the embers fail
in the wake of harvest pyres

and the coldest season is yet to come
I can feel it in my bones
won't you leave a flower for me
as a token of what we've done?

I heard crow song in the woods
as the clouds obscured the light
I have built these walls of stone
to ward against the night

I watched the stems break through the soil
before the sun returned
I reaped the fruits of all our scars
after all the cities burned

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