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■ The oak
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I watch the sun its set
where the ruby glad skies fill the summit of blue and clouds like a resin bids the hints hue into the dark tumbling sea where the night closes its doors swallows deep the bleeding king into his watery tomb I watch as the heavens open every twinkling lullaby of stars stretched out upon a sequenced sky where Luna crafts her old songs and tale and finds the Earth like a relished dream upon which she dances and plays. The night has its own flavour, its own disguise and true as the day had bid its course she too must quake at the powers and loosen her might to those approaching hours when birthed anew the God king rises with the distant rays that flood her world drawing light, delectable through burning the shadow of her form away into a brilliant spectacle a harmonizing song the rips asunder the world to its tone And cries I am before all existence. Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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