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Left art for a better bed.
Dreams die had asleep.
Find another day in the night
Echoing it's last rites
Crawl among the stars smiling fangs
They feast
On fear
Find none but of their own form
Flee poisioned
Never to return
Are missed
Like the rain
Falling down
On the plain
Never changes
What speaks strangers
Stranger than a seat
In a nightmare
Of disconected abominations
All vieing for faces
To fish their fangs back
And fill themselves with darkness again.
