I run through a storm,
Landing firmly on the wasteland,
I take only what I need,
I cast solitude and loneliness into a world of nothingness...

Always living this way,
Crimson blood flows
To become a different person,
Is the cry of my soul.

Having always lived in Winter,
I fail to understand the Spring,
I will always be like the pale moon,
Shining faintly....

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