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I drink with ghosts, welcome the enemy hours, share with them the falling dark. It's fine, fair, has a shine, rich and arch, a sweet and pulsing spiral, the glow of a ruined soul. The sullen sword at one's side, the black ruin of cross eyed forgotten reflect, the floor a god and the stars bright and untouched. Rar.
Category Poetry / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 413 B
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