It's 4:21 in the morn. So be it of which brings weariness in the stolen ways of life. Here comes thou with a flower of bloom bringing thou some doom in the rainy misty frozen cold night. The news that awaits I in the early hours of dawn, brings the cold as if no unforeseen seer has seen. An endless winter at the start of summer shall be the demise of the earl gates of a mind that will be a door less frame till the ends of time. So it shall come with the ancient saying
May your swords stay sharp.
So sit in the red streams of morn and sharp those notorious edges till, they blunt into the lights of the next winters morn.
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