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A rake of claws against a mirror, grazing past what we once were. A kindling of a swordless bloodshed a creaking of a voiceless door. But where does a mind likenyours wonder, when its sung to sleep? Mind the clamours of the restless bidders. Before you chose to weep. And the hound is humming you, a lie, a lullabye
<how i was last night>
















