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In the whirlwind of ashes I can tell forbidden signs And dull whisper of the dashers, Who struck bosom of the brine Hollow wail is penetrating Through the tatters of the haze Brings a song that dedicated To the glory and the praise Being covered by a shroud Frozen breath and icy touch On the wings of flaming round Till it finally comes to crunch Wolves are wildly roaring Till they’re out of breath, I see ravens soaring In the dance of death. |
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