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Cold Nights of August

The clouds are dark blue
The skies painted with many hue
The wind sifts about the way
Pushing the turbans away
The heights of the mountains
Lay quiet, near the Lions den

The clouds hung motionless
Awaiting the Judges case
A hopeful evening
Turned to one, windy

And here the storm just began
Making all cold, the child, the man
And every one who lived in the clan

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