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Morning wheel, fair and cruel,
Gazing down, upon Midgard.
Patiently, does she assess,
Northward, South,
Eastward, West.
Judging all hearts, silently,
In this hour blessed, ere lightning.
For harmony... Purity...
Essence... And totality.
Long shadows shift, as clouds are cleft,
Beyond the crests, and darkest depths.
For blades of light, are but whirring scythes--
Both deosil, and eternal...
