Howler
This is the era of echoes—
Echoes inside my hollow soul.
This is the time of broken hearts
And lost minds.
This could be a golden world—
Yet instead we are all grey.
A sign of the times—a war within our
Struggling hearts that pump crimson
Blood which shall ooze and trickle from
Our weary eyes.
You’ve left me alone in this necropolis—
And deep within my sepulcher my corpse
Strains to call out your name.
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