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Aug 21. 2025
I fall with no wound, yet I bury the land, A fleeting dominion of bone-white command. I silence the forest, I soften the stone, But fade into nothing when warmth claims its throne. What am I?
Aug 21. 2025
I fall with no wound, yet I bury the land, A fleeting dominion of bone-white command. I silence the forest, I soften the stone, But fade into nothing when warmth claims its throne. What am I?