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...in the Mist
Shape of Despair
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Slow my feet are
Frozen their veins
Still closing helplessly afar
Waking the creatures within
I am a lonely traveller awaiting to sleep
Eternally under those cold woods
As my fall brings then
Shadows of their wings as howling their
Pleads wounded, I lay on ground
Listening their needs
It's dark and cold and they fly slowly and
They know surely they raped my soul
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