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Ashen Valleys Of War
Vivid are the greenest fields,
Sacred in my memories,
Taken captive by enemies,
Stolen and made to loveless gold,
Loose footing catches me,
And Reminds me ever still,
This which once had been my will,
The legend I once had told,
This Not meant to,
Be a warning
Of such macabre
Relentless moaning
Of those left behind to die
In ashen valleys of war
poem
by
Mat Klink
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