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To Roam The Endless Plains

Firstborn

I am now the raging fiend
Riding the wings of a frozen windÂ…
For the horizon beckons me forth.

Wanderer – without perception
Wanderer – without direction

Is it my fate, to roam the endless plains?

A dead world blazes behind
A dead world burns in my mind
And the flesh with itÂ…

A spirit of the steppe
I became ethereal
I perpetuate digression
And the illusion
Of ascensionÂ…
In circles dimmer and dimmerÂ…

To find, one must know what to searchÂ…






Mais tocadas

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