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I drive this cart, this platform on four wheels,
Wherever the roads may take us, I drive
Through steep gorges and across vast plains
A transitory endeavour, a lifelong quest,
of wood and metal, creaking in the night,
steel tires hauled across rocks,
some rebelling with sparks, others with silence
under the steadfast rhythm of cloven hoofs
Spokes turn, like perpetual clockwork,
until we reach the next inn,
where hopefully awaits another drink
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A.A. Saloen (Children of the Pact (A Tide of Sacred Ice))