Between the sunset's bloodstained veil,Thy horned prospect reflects on me.The he -goat above - The she-goat belowCried through beads of mirrored tearsIt fills th e air ! - It fills the air !An atmosphere that hath no key.I'm disguised by the kindle of nite and I can fill your liquid, glass heartGrasp your cold-shaded bre ath and whisper the sign of the hidded stoneI'm in the circle and I am the shell that granted you the horns of All-BegetterA fixed, startless vision and a sulle n fabrication cursed the Sunof which our lustful ways are performed.Half of me i s all of herHath no shower; hath no solHalf of me is all of herHath no shower; h ath no solHalf of me is all of herHath no shower; hath no solAkhera-goitiAkhera- beitiFantasies I realizedDance of thorns, I thriveFor below the great abyss is a virtue contained in itself."We shall eagerly expect one black opalith for tomor row."
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