The galloping hooves, of
Iron wheels, runs
Willing to meet, somewhere
Near the destined off burn;
Where no desire comes to grip
Nor the motion deal for time;
I of the weakest mark
Turn my head around
And go musing, about
The forward steps of
Synchronising boots and slippers
Iron wheels, runs
Willing to meet, somewhere
Near the destined off burn;
Where no desire comes to grip
Nor the motion deal for time;
I of the weakest mark
Turn my head around
And go musing, about
The forward steps of
Synchronising boots and slippers
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