Rain turned to ice,and lightning splintered, it splicedthe black sky, it seeped a bright white.All animals they fled,from the sky as it bled,pale death that fell veiling the night.
Once spun,The silken thread of all our aspirationsRemains intact,It can never be broken.
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Once spun,The silken thread of all our aspirationsRemains intact,It can never be broken.
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Wrath crawled out from the well,on direction from Hell,to get back what it once lost.With vengeance in mind,it set out to find,a specified soul to accost.When the Hell-well beckoned,Mother__ will now reckoned,her dead soul now wholly enslaved.Embodied in a rotting husk,the corpse reeked of putrid musk,her being wholly depraved.
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Yeah, try wearing a piss cutter for eight years_ then it wouldn__ be so bad.