The rise and fall marks this day, year of fourth,
The happy and the sad times was such a lothe,
Which comes an end to all in a morgue.
Our journey was of short,
Though not covered by length of Sword,
Nor the ways of the Lord.
It was a journey to South back North,
A travel of cold and hot and what of not.
The rise and fall mark this the fourth,
With every strike of every forge,
With every fight thats ever fought,
Marks a change as life comes forth.
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Listening to: I'm on fire - Bruce Springsteen
Mood: In the midst of hot weather
Location: In a moving car
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