You took ahold of me and said we should go!
I stood still confused.
Perdition! I howled showering and cursed flegm fell.
I regurgitate stories of Estonian devils.
Guide to demonology and their jests also.
The dirge of an alarm bell and Morricone
fill my ordinary day.
I trace the lines of a collapsed mill,
its inhabitants without shelter, just an investment unholy?
Sheep lie on the field silent and still.
Upon the foundations of ruin, even a murderer's feet let no sound.
A boast built within treachery echoes through the swamp.
Though prepared for everything.
Houses burn, and kinglings kneel for crowns anew.
Forced recruitment and a wooden eye gawk; vindicate and gyrate.
The mountains ascendant's fear has secretly turned to hate.
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