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Pale as the furthest star

born from enchanted arms

the howling that chilled the flowing air

let the wet kiss burn deeper yet

like gold from the little man’s wheel

she twirled in her chamber sealed

clinging to her last free will

awaiting the call of the bravest knight

long for seduction bathed in cold sweat

arms of the clock work hadn’t come yet

for her time was enslaved by the chantress tight hands

Dead on the chamber floor

Her heart beat raced for more

perished before touching of man

eternity silent, like the brevity of life

one second born to one second die

Screaming October rides for her hand

the black steed nostril stench fogs up the land

Maiden I come for thee on a hour far late

as for my absence I shall return with you

In love in our grave

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