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Feather And Bone

Altar Of Plagues

It is a familiar place the road leads toward.
Forever dying, stripped of all but nothing.
And fed to nothing.

Wide eye cannot see the beyond.
They will not look upon it's face.

The ride to that with no soul, the ride to nothingness.

Words fall empty, words filled with heart.
The wide distance pulls us apart.

Horses are rapid and ready.
White light chases light.

Composição: J. Kelly

Composição: James Kelly





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