Winter falls on a heavy heart,
Wind pierces the weakening soul,
With frost laying waste like a frigid thorn,
Spring forever waits to start,
Warmth soon paying the tole,
With love bidding hope for a new season born.
Wind pierces the weakening soul,
With frost laying waste like a frigid thorn,
Spring forever waits to start,
Warmth soon paying the tole,
With love bidding hope for a new season born.
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