Solitude is not given It is Earned In this Conspiracy Of Destiny Empty Vessels Of Spermless Love Made of Mud and Mist I was Possessed We Develop, We Delight, We Define and We Decay From within A sacred Power Acting upon my Shame In Pursuit of the Impossible Nothingness I found myself In Sacrilege Shall we die a Master-Slave For this Dog Day Age? Develop and Delight and Decay
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