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The Journal-Diary of a Crazy French Man.
I have no idea what I am filling this with anymore. It'll be fun to watch.
Darkhead
Steel of darkhead with malice intent,
Swift wings beating to lengthen descent,
Black opals stringing through the air,
With sweet lightning curling 'round there.
There the sorrows of past days aligned.
Dark torrents of destiny are now mine.
Right now through this night,
Where enemies cross and alight,
Here upon this darkened stoop,
There the first step starts a loop.
It shows the past and future lives,
It twists and turns and burns alive,
Those who have naught a care,
For they are the ones not aware,
of the sweetest dreams that lie there.
And is now winging through the air,
To land softly in the snow,
Whereupon it begins to glow,
Rising up to stand with poise,
The falling shadows make no noise.
Too near its touch it is now dead,
The gleaming Steel of the Darkhead.





 
 
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