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Gates of Scholomance

I taste you once,
For a non-existant second,
Your beauty entrances me,
Yet I cannot recall your face,
A horde of lotuses,
Wearing the flesh of angels,
Guide you to your rest,
Discarding shattered questions,
In their wake,
The muted cries of a thousand murdered muses,
Presents a feeble dirge,
I scatter their bones across the void,
Which has consumed you,
Such a mockery of your existance,
I consume the apple,
Until I relish the taste of the worm,
Five sable razorblades await within,
Reflecting the charred womb,
Which consumed them and gave them life,
I carress the steel,
And feel a kalidoscope of crimson,
As my senses collide,
With its amorous love,
I feel myself drowning,
In the warmth of my life,
We embrace for eternity.


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