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Writers Cramp Entry |
Frost-Covered Ground Upon the frost-covered ground I lay, and by chance, heard a voice. It was warm and comforting to my ear, and I found myself wishing for the chance to live again; to feel the blithe spirit burn deep inside of me, instead of this bullet torn through my broken heart, As I lay beneath a blanket, crimson-stained, upon the frost-covered ground. |