I Suffer The Astral Woe
Krohm
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Soaring with eyes,
where morning never comes.
and the eternal black,
melts with infernal suns.
Creator of creators,
rip me from this breathing shell.
With the wisdom of origin,
to wear your cosmic skin.
With me I am my own,
and in all I am within.
I travel the astral depths,
on the winds of expansion.
I am of a race unbound,
from this earthly grasp.
I am the one who carries,
the burden of endless sorrow.
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