| «The light grew old
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| and the hour itself reeked of pure finality…»
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| The air was still, breathing unease
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| of oblivion’s glacial release
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| And a promise of grave cold serenity
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| Among the lost, the tombless few
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| granted a sight, a perfect view
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| To feast our eyes on a world scale demise
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| For what were we if not mere flies
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| upon a storm bound to arise
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| Set to unfold from the very womb of Time
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| I witnessed the Death of the Tyrant
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| sans fear beheld the fading light
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| Bereft and left for death to take us
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| ‘cross distances unseen,
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| To worlds beyond this ether
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| on the broken wings of a dream
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| For the hour is upon us Cimmerian night unveiled
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| And all shall be redone
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| where past creators failed
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| Lay down and embrace the deathlong sleep
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| For time has come for this crop to be reaped |