Emergence
Each day I die clandestinely but the universe is spying me on for masking the ashes grey ruins of my soul awake and those bits of life as reals as apprehended the ones i structure... the return for a...
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Graves at my command Have waked their sleepers oped and let 'em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do, To...
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