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The Holly King

The leaves fall in his presence
The ground hardens to ice
Shortened are the days
As long become the nights

Until the Oak King rises
When the wheel turns again
And the song of the robin
Is heard over the wren

A time to feast, to come together
To let the flames burn bright
A time to understand
Without the darkness, there’s no light

Since it turns, so he returns
When the oak leaves...

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