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Old Reopened Sorrow

The wind blew with a savage eloquence, Whispering words that cut deep, Deeper than any blade before it. Snow swirling, dancing on the wind… Bitter cold… Piercing and stinging with delicate precision, Hitting sore places that had long ago healed.   The snow is bloody now. Crimson pools of sadness And Captured images of the

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I’m sure that when you landed on my page, you were astonished to see the heading there: Howlietzer Publishing.
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