In this undeadly raven eyes layes winterstones of buried flesh once held high by mortal men holy and miserable Then on my next gravethrone I choose the thoughts for each colour thrown upon lovly wall for graceful visions and dreams In the tunnel through fantasy and madness trancemagic of my dimension silent as the grave By every passing curl is each the shadows beneath my glorious creations Is my highest immortal like the roses feared or have the flute played us false tunes in broken glass
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