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November 12, 2017
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It hangs by straight and hinging planes
Though symphony assaults her doors
It sifts from edge to singeing pains
For God will burn as Rintrah roars
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Taste lemongrass at river’s run
And meet me at the void’s frontier
To chase the dying of the sun
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Posted by: Sam | January 15, 2020 at 04:03 AM