It isn’t despair in the cold night air.
A green gleam on the glassy windows,
A red fire of stoves and people
What’s to fear, of the the cold night air?
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Writing, poetry and more writing.
It isn’t despair in the cold night air.
A green gleam on the glassy windows,
A red fire of stoves and people
What’s to fear, of the the cold night air?
