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Ryan Pierson

The gigantic stems of the fog and the walks and the prowls and sings

I saw while I walked across a grove of the trees of the rhododendron, vigorous giant of the fog of to I did a step, its beard jumped in that wild wind eastern, and carried with him a dense bank of fog.

His sword dangled from his life often, and his attitude ecstatic said that was a friendly giant, he played for those a cheerful tune on his tube of the horn.

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