A Bouquet Of Blood For Skull
Leviathan (USA)
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Crush the dried petals of roses that bore light
Brandishing talons at the sun
Yawning and empty the petals wither
Only grayed stem remains
Revive the silence that the stars will again shine
Weep not for chalice and not for lurking inspiration
But for relief from grace, finally with grasp
Constellation
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