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Hecate's Kiss (04)

Like the echo of screaming voices from the soundless abyss. Plunged into dualism by these choices, where predestined fates make all ideas just noises. The beat of the heart keeps the moon where ticks and pendulums can not. Lady Miriah weeps filling the desert with oceans, raising the tides. Your blood knows, but has no memory, it was ‘I am’ to my anscestors, it is the ‘I am’ to me and my descendants. Blood swells and heats my body, a reminder, when I kiss those lips of the voices from the soundless abyss.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005




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Book: Shattered Sighs