## P11 Cold

Winter is coming so soon.  
And after, it was monsoom,  
but without a tropical heat,  
just rain drops for the beat.  

And slowly, rhythm goes down,  
the night put on her gown.  
It's like the footsteps of death,  
and the cold of her kiss.  

Winter is now both in autumn,  
and in that kind of spring.  
The morale fall in the bottom,  
and I hear the music of a string.  

2Dɛ
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