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The Pitchfork Black Sky

When death Grabs you like A cold corpse From his nest This broken light Shall not rest When death is The cold steel Blue eyes Of the gray wolf, Howling at The ancient Pale moon, Buried in The pitchfork Black sky

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 5/19/2009 4:13:00 AM
Gregory, fantastic, almost golden-dark glow to this fine write!! Jim
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