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■ The oak
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She came to me once,
in a dream and I knew her heart was black Mass and pretending mattered not; I saw her, layers peeled back The evil oozed from her being and her face held a mocking grin Her eyes focused on the lame and weak and her words cut, time and again Browbeating was second nature to this ice queen's cold, dark heart She sank souls like quicksand and ripped worlds apart...
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