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Cradle of my youth - the welter in the north
in your indescribable might.
Resting roots for thousand years
your walls are drowned in light.

As the tempests get their brunt,
the branches keep their stand -
forged in bloody tales of woe.

Embedded between seven seas
- withstand every tremor among the land.
Surrounded by the darkest forests
and willows aglow.

When I walk around your shores
and breath deep I feel levitation.
Winter cold or summer heat -
your circles cast out fierce frustrations.

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