Ancient whispers
Lethargic the senses of blinded truths Fragile the embers of the brave who died, a silent death Still seduced in thawed cocoons of heart’s coward-ness I prayed on dusted tombs, and heard the ancients whisper: Gather the warriors of old, sharpen the spears of light Darkness dies tonight!! The dawn breaks….
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hellfire
Art….. is the footprint of inner essence – James Carver
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