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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Gothic >> ID #1325797 |
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The unholiness within will bring out your dead
from the crimson crypt in the sketch of morbid means. Cruel laughter heralds hope’s lingering demise. The dispossessed will begin to sing, it is said, as Satan’s manuscripts produce such sordid scenes. Ghoul crafts imperiling your soul will galvanize, coalescing into a black display of dread. All hope is stripped from wretched recorded routines. Hereafter, despair will rule over all you prize.
© Copyright 2007 Dave (UN: drschneider at Writing.Com).
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