There is blood on the Samhain and Aurora brings her in
painted in the colors of the fallen and the children.

Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies
ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

And then we dance a new dance -- a hallowed transferred soul --
from birth to death and back again until we've been made whole.

Always doubt believers, but trust the truth inside.
The giddy Gods are dancing. We made them in our minds.

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