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That is not dead
Which can eternal lie
Yet with strage aeons
Even death may lie
H.p. lovecraft
I bewail my destiny
A foible of mine
But her voice tortures my mind
I yearn for her bosom
I fear her sway
My eternal blemish
Is her embrace
She whispers: chose a realm
These two are the preferred ones:
Hell - where your soul reduces to ashes
Heaven - where you´ll be drowned
