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From the frozen depths Sweep the northern ground Oh, cover the sky, the horizon “In these times even
the moon shall die, Cutting wind, freeze the blood
on this field! To the clouds wraiths stare
with darkened eyes; Life eternal vanished from
their eyes! Sorrow’s words echo Those unhearable words Over the plain they echo, MURDER... MURDER... MURDER... |
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Copyright © E Trite Moira 2001-2007
- partial and/or complete reproductions are forbidden |
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