This is a scheduled post planned to be published at 1479594623000 at 1479594623000
The wind tore at my soul 
in anger, 
hair flying, eyes bright

A lullaby of old,

'Tis the song 
of a weeping willow, 

calling all her children 
home The wind tore at my soul in anger, hair flying, eyes bright A lullaby of old, 'Tis the song of a weeping willow, calling all her children home
1479594623000 at 1479594623000