There's no joy in what I see
Looking at my own
I have watched over thousand deaths.
Possesed the mourning families.
I have
Secrets born in me are the conjurations
Malicious mysteries-calling of the
Blessed are those who know and face sorrow.
Thus who experience
Tjsi morbid night melancholy
Moon of funerals broods
Mist rising from the
I am here, conjured by your words
Dark priest, welcome my
Once again my thoughts-are drifting back in time.
Remembering the times-when
Tears wet the coffin dust
Mourning stains the wooden lid
Through the
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