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"Singing to the lost That is the thing I am not a shining beacon
I do not guide Thudding of blackened wings foretelling Death Blood weaving entrails Blood soaked prophetic weaving, What entails within those entrails? A savage lust, You would demote us, sanitize us, Saw down our vicious edges,
Battle stance to nothing - a lovers grip? We are Befallen We are Fate and Death We are the bone jaw snapping closed A heavy gurgle of mans last utterance Nothing so fragile Wingless you would make us Break us Torment us We are Befallen We are Fate and Death."
- Channeled from the Valkyries
Joey Morris 2018
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