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In this tongue
Spoken,
I speak with the
Boken.
The tang glistens in
White.
Behold the shadow
At night.
The midnight song sings
Melodies of willow
Trees, swaying long.
Snowflakes falling in
The world above skin.
Flurries flowing.
The window now fogging,
Hides a girl clogging.
She clogs slowly,
To funeral song.
Then falls to dust.@@