Cursed Realm
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Celestial Graveyard
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Graveyard
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Ghost
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Memories of Regret
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Love Me
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Dans Macabru
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The River of Souls
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Secrets and lies
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When Dragons were real
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Blue Morning
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Decantation
We are a sadness
that is so old
it cannot remember its own birth.
We have been here for so long
that we have forgotten how
to return home-
or even where
that welcomed shore resides.
I speak in sounds because there are no words- No language reveals what we feel - more than a whispered scream. I touch the sound and cringe in its echo. It is cold and hollow - It is silent yet piercing - It is a minstrel of divine discontent- A lullaby sung to sleepers in their graves. The shadow of a melody that I remember from some distant life. Why ? Decantation of Lost SoulS |