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Crone Dance
by
Emma Ruth Rundle
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Our movements are godlike, mirroring themselves In the waves, the winds The movements of growth Where the inner impulse meets the outer force A cure for the affliction of static destiny Our bodies propelled by rooted urgency Enthralled by expressive Depressive ache Where the inner impulse meets thе outer force A cure for thе affliction of static destiny My friend [?] Scream my friend, don't crawl By our frenzied ecstatic knowledge Shall the chambers be full By our frenzied ecstatic knowledge Shall the chambers be full By our frenzied ecstatic knowledge Shall the chambers be full By our frenzied ecstatic knowledge Shall the chambers be full By our frenzied ecstatic knowledge Shall the chambers be full By our frenzied ecstatic knowledge Shall the chambers be full
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