Startlingly false words,are heard be a world, roaming innowhereLie, truth
Come on, climb up the top, you will see everythingLook
It is year in 681.The mist so thick had scattered
There, amidst the sleeping mounts and misty woodsSteep path was
Open your mindsenselessly haunting in the emptinessand see the thing,
Here the memory does not have beginningor end.On every Evil
That was the last night of the battle to death
Grey, pale essence is falling to pieces in front of
Death, murders and blood.Till when, till when?Through the smoke of
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