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In the Bazaar

In the bazaar Works and willful stacks of gold. I grant thee one reticent Knod, just for show. There is no real fauna In our new world.order, We whet our fangs And fight for the final time. In glaciers cool but melting, I greet the gods of Greenland mourning. In glaciers hot and freezing We leave the demons plotting.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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