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  • THE PLAGUE
    74 1 1

  • On Books
    9 1 1

    I sit here, aged worn and world weary memories of a thousand hands that etched themselves on my skin and even now, the gentlest hands send reverberations along my spine And you, young and glossy sit there mocking my old ways emptying my shelves and scorning my brothers You do not know When my temples burn, the peopl...

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