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One heartbeat rips |
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The spiral scar. |
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The spiral breeze. |
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I grant my lips, |
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The spiral greed. |
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In all my praise, with all my trust. |
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I swear my claim in a crest of rain, |
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And a column of radiant desire. |
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My gloss forlorned, my play of horns. |
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And the music of sweet fire. |
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The mourners they weep, |
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Thought greets the feathered King. |
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The veil of rot now sings: |
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"For in the beautiful insane, lies the Equinox scarred. |
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With souls of flies and spiral hearts. |
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Yes, it is I. Glowing in your hand. |
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With all grace of hell, marbelled in sand." |
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The serpent leaps to face |
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The quest of flesh and bone. |
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And to reap this spiral tone. |