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I wake to see

The bastard children thrivning

The plight

Your burden

The Scourge abiding

No matter what the conseqence

I have only knives for you

I will be your storm

The strike you never knew

You litte man

No willful melancholy

No matter how you plead

This wind to right you folly

Crushing worlds in front of you

Gushing through the trial

I am the wind

I am the storm wyou'll always flee

Find you there

Where the sun smote

Storm cleansing all away