🦌 Dream 🦌

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Grass of green.

Meadow of gold.

Tales of old go untold.

A story of one.

Horror external.

Is dread merely eternal?

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Stripped of riches and bled of pride the horned faithful walks without stride.

Foolish dreams, stumbling words a notepad withheld from letters not bold.

Unspoken riches given to the blind the crippled and wounded pets of the divine.

If a fantasy world is what you seek cross the boarder, we have no need for the meek...

Words : 93

This will likely get its own story if this chapter reaches 5 votes/stars.

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