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The open air Atop this mountain Welcomes my hungered voice Yet - in the echoes Of my indulgence I hear a calling from below Silent cries To my solitude profound In too deep There is no return For the soul unbound In too deep I draw circles Sacred boundaries Around my desolate temple Blood is spilt And thorns grow On the path to liberty Eternally In pain and rapture I was summoned And I was forced Yet - I willed it so |
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