Icicles
Icicles hang on and above
My window pane, melting now
That the warmness of the
Day is catching them up.
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Icicles hang on and above
My window pane, melting now
That the warmness of the
Day is catching them up.
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Golden-red, piercing
Eyes, orange feathers uncurl
As the firebird flies,
As it flies,
Flies,
Fly up firebird,
Fly...