The Black Atlantic - Fragile Meadow
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The Black Atlantic — Fragile Meadow

How ephemeral our grace is in these wind stricken plains
But I do believe
It is our fate to reside here
Away from the mountains of youth and safety
In a fragile meadow
(We build our home)

The Black Atlantic - Walked-On Wood

The Black Atlantic, Walked on Wood

I can feel the summer in this current

Behind your shoulders, he looms
What can you say
When winter is lodged in your throat?