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vanraijinUpgrade to paid account! October 10th, 2013. The first days alone. Were a haunting curse of their own,. There’s no way one can rehearse loading his own hearse from a throne. And what’s worse is that time collapsed into an audible drone:. But still the static state vibration radiates in the tone,. And synaptic void elation rooting hate in the bones. A spastic altercation splatters brains on the poem,. The fact is the pain evasion casts irate into stone. A drastic revelation will dictate the unknown,.
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