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ahmetemin1994
I swarm deserted away, like glass... Warm, and as fevers, I am as flame. I am death... For I, I weave our blasphemies... Witches painted me, Like the mysteries created me... Like where the poets breathe, I were woven into blasphemies...
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titusgyrth
Wicthes painted me, Like the mysteries created me... Like where the poets breathe, I were woven into blasphemies.
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